


Just For Research

by filthtastic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, G!P, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slow Burn, Smut, i guess there's a little bit of a plot, there's just also a lot of smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6626851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthtastic/pseuds/filthtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa accidentally turn on porn and then decide it's important that they watch as education for their future sex lives. One thing leads to another and they decide maybe live practice is better. How long will it take them to realize this is far more than just research?</p><p>(Don't let the slow burn tag fool you, it isn't future smut or eventual smut, there is smut in literally every chapter, they're just really taking their time making it around the bases and figuring out that their feelings are mutual.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They have always had movie night at Clarke’s house. The Griffin house was massive and Clarke basically had the entire third floor to herself, complete with tv room and a couch Lexa swore was about as big as the bunk beds that still filled her own tiny bedroom even with Anya gone to college. Abby worked late more often than not, and when she was home she was usually careful of Clarke’s privacy, giving her space, only ever venturing upstairs and knocking to see if they wanted food. So when some accidental button-smashing during a playful battle over the remote suddenly filled the big screen with porn, there wasn’t quite the same level of panicked channel-changing as there might have been otherwise.

They both froze for a moment, staring wide-eyed at the scene before Lexa jabbed the LAST button and sent them back to the previous channel. It was just commercials, nothing to distract from the images that now filled their heads. Lexa was especially glad that she had made a habit of sitting with a pillow in her lap just in case, because her dick was immediately half-hard and trying to tent her sweatpants.

Lexa sneaked a glance over at Clarke, who was just as red-faced as she felt. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she said nothing, and after a minute Clarke finally cleared her throat.

“So that was…”

“An accident.”

“I was going to say weird.”

“Yeah, that too.”

“But kind of…”

This time Lexa didn’t try to finish Clarke’s thought for her, just glanced at her sideways out of the corner of her eye and waited. She saw Clarke doing the same a few times before swallowing and saying, “Interesting?”

Lexa hesitated, not wanting to agree too easily. “I guess.”

“I mean, I don’t know about you but I’ve never seen—”

“No, me neither.”

“But you like girls.”

“Yeah?”

“And I like girls.”

“I know?”

“So maybe— maybe we should? Watch it? Like for research.”

“For research,” Lexa echoed uncertainly. If it were anyone but Clarke, Lexa would have worried she was being lured into some sort of mean trap, but that wasn’t the kind of joke Clarke played, and it didn’t sound like she was kidding. She was too nervous, even if she was trying to pretend she wasn’t. After another moment of consideration, Lexa nodded. “Okay. Yeah. It wouldn’t hurt to try it.” A boner seemed inevitable, but it wouldn’t be the first she’d hidden beneath this pillow until it went away and Clarke had never seemed to notice before. It’d be fine.

“Okay.” Clarke picked up the remote and swapped the channel back and immediately moaning and wet kissing noises filled the room. They both blushed all over again.

Lexa couldn’t help looking over at Clarke every few seconds, curious to see her reaction. There wasn’t much to see at first, but then Clarke said, “Their boobs are huge,” and Lexa laughed, and then Clarke was laughing with her. It broke the tension a little, enough to let them both sink into the couch and begin commenting here and there on what they were seeing. They shuddered at the long fake nails, made jokes about the lighting, and laughed at the scraps of terribly-written dialog. Before long it was more funny than sexy, and while her cock wasn’t as totally put off by low production values as the rest of her, Lexa was relieved at how much more comfortable it all was than she’d expected.

But then the film ended and another immediately began, and right away she knew she was in trouble. Everything about it was sexier: the light, the music, the people. Worst, the scene quickly turned into a set-up alarmingly similar to theirs: two women on a couch watching tv. Except on-screen there was a man in a chair nearby too and it quickly turned into the women touching themselves.

Lexa gulped and risked a look at Clarke. She found her friend staring at the screen in rapt attention, red all the way down her throat to the neck of her t-shirt. She wondered how low the blush went, if it reached all the way to the tops of her breasts. Her cock twitched and she pressed down on the pillow and looked back at the screen.

“Do you think people really do this?” Clarke asked.

“What?”

“This,” Clarke gestured at the screen. “Like just. Do this. Together. They’re supposed to just be friends, and I know plot in porn isn’t important but it has to be based on something, right?”

Lexa hadn’t been paying much attention to the ‘plot’ of the film but she caught enough for Clarke’s question to fill in the gaps. Three friends, stuck in a hotel for a night, are too horny to contain themselves and decide to jerk off together. It had sounded ridiculous, but that was before she was this turned on. She shrugged.

“I don’t know. I guess?”

“I guess it wouldn’t be that weird. If you’re close.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I mean everybody does it, and everybody knows everybody does it. So if you’re comfortable with each other about everything else, why not this?”

Lexa nodded along, not entirely convinced but unwilling to argue. When she looked she found Clarke watching her expectantly. “It makes sense I guess?” she tried, not really sure what Clarke was hoping for.

Clarke nodded, and then again, with that half-frown she got on her face when she was thinking hard. But she didn’t say anything else, and finally turned back to the movie. Lexa watched her for a moment more before doing the same.

On-screen, all three ‘friends’ were stripping naked. Clarke’s head tilted curiously and Lexa got the feeling there was a question brewing, but it took a few more minutes before she let it out.

“Does yours look like that?”

Lexa’s brows jumped. “Does— like— like his?”

Clarke nodded, and bit her lip but couldn’t stop the blush. “Yeah. Does your— do all dicks curve like that?”

“No.” Lexa shook her head, and tried desperately to ignore the way her pulse throbbed in her shaft just at hearing Clarke say the word. “I mean— it— mine has a curve but not. Not like that. They don’t all.”

“Is it still to the left like that?”

“No. It’s— no. It’s up a little.”

Clarke tilted her head again and Lexa had to rearrange her legs and hug that pillow tighter as she realized Clarke was trying to picture what her dick looked like. Right then it felt like a steel rod trying to burn a hole in her pants and she bit back a groan as she felt a pulse of pre-come drip out onto the inside of her boxers.

“Do they all have that many veins?”

“No. Just that— no.”

“Just that what?”

“Just that big one.”

“Which one?”

“The one right up the back.” Lexa couldn’t believe she was pointing at the screen, tracing the line of the vein in the air with her finger.

“Wait, which side is the back?”

“The side facing away from me. From him, I mean.” Lexa fumbled, “On mine it’s me but we’re talking about him so it’s— him.” They were still meant to be talking about the actor, after all. That’s what Clarke was interested in. Not in Lexa.

“Right.” Clarke chewed on her lip a minute and then leaned a little forward on the couch, and pointed, “But he’s got two right here. Is that what you mean?”

“No, it’s—”

Clarke got up and walked up to the tv, peering hard at the image. “This one, or this one? Or both? Is that all just one?”

Lexa sighed and got up to join her, but the camera shifted and suddenly they were standing two feet from each other next to a close-up of a woman circling her clit with a finger. Clarke gasped and Lexa choked on nothing. The shot lingered, and when Lexa got her voice back she mumbled out, “Do they all look like that?”

Clarke flushed at having the question turned back around on her and looked down at her toes, but then gasped again and quickly looked up, eyes wide. Lexa looked down, and her stomach sunk into the floor as she realized that she’d let Clarke’s tv-poking distract her for just long enough to walk across the room without making any effort to conceal her erection. It was unmistakable, her sweatpants pitched like a tent, and by the time she got her hands down to try to cover it it was too little too late. There wasn’t much she could do without some adjusting that would only reveal even more, and Clarke had obviously already seen. Lexa couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Sorry, I— it just— it happens. I forgot, I wouldn’t— I didn’t mean—”

A hand on her arm had her flinching, and Clarke quickly pulled back. “Sorry, I— I just. It’s okay, Lex. Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not _freaking out_. I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal, right? I mean we’re watching porn, that’s what porn is for.”

“Yeah, but you’re not—”

Clarke raised a brow. “How do you know?”

That made Lexa pause, and consider. But not too much, because when she started thinking about Clarke getting wet she could feel her cock start to drip again and the last thing she needed was a wet spot on top of everything else. “I guess… I guess I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

“So…are you?” She blurted the question out against her own better judgment. But maybe if Clarke was turned on, too, she wouldn’t feel quite so mortified.

Clarke’s flush grew a little deeper, and she nodded. Lexa tried not to look down, digging her teeth into her bottom lip. “Maybe we should watch something else?”

Clarke nodded again, and they both headed back to the couch, Lexa moving quickly but awkwardly with both hands still cupped around her cock. She could almost feel it throbbing against her palm through the fabric, and it was so hard it ached when she tried to push it up against her belly to be less noticeable.

They sat down and she quickly pulled the pillow back into her lap. Clarke stopped with the remote raised and stared at her.

“Wait. Are you using that pillow to hide your boner?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh my god. Have you always been using it for that? All this time?”

“Maybe. Sort of?”

“Sort of?”

“Like just— just in case.” Lexa looked away from Clarke’s stare and covered her burning face with a hand.

“So all this time you’ve been sitting there hard and I never knew?”

“No! No, god. Not— not all the time. It just happens sometimes and I wanted to be prepared so it wasn’t weird.”

Clarke set the remote down and turned toward her more fully, and Lexa groaned, because she had that look in her eye that said she was curious and wasn’t going to let go until she’d had all her questions answered.

“How often? Every time?”

“No. I mean— no.”

“What?”

“It depends what counts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like is it anything or just only when I’m—" Lexa hesitated and gestured vaguely instead, "you know.”

“I don’t know,” Clarke shook her head.

Lexa rolled her eyes, but spat it out. “When I’m totally hard.”

“So sometimes you get only partly hard?”

“Yeah.”

“And then what?”

Lexa shrugged. “Then it goes away.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know? Because I make it. Or it just was for no reason or it—whatever it was that made it happen—stopped, so it goes away on its own if I ignore it.”

“Okay,” Clarke said slowly, clearly turning this information around in her brain. “So, say we count only totally hard. How often then?”

“Not every time. Only a few times.” Lexa figured half a lie was okay. It really wasn’t every time, but a few was definitely an understatement.

“When?”

“Clarke.”

“Come on, Lexa. It’s just me. We tell each other everything.”

“I know but… fine.” She wasn’t about to tell her about the most recent time (when Clarke had spilled a glass of ice water down the front of her v-neck and Lexa had been hard for half an hour off just a glimpse of her nipples through the wet fabric and just remembering it now made her pulse race) and tried to think of an occasion that made sense and would be easy to understand. “When we watched Black Swan.”

“Oh, yeah, that was hot.”

“Yeah. Until it got weird. But the sex scene got me.”

“Me too.” Clarke nodded along and thankfully didn’t seem to notice Lexa swallowing hard at how casually she’d admitted to being aroused. “So is that going to go away?” She pointed at Lexa’s crotch.

Lexa rubbed both hands over her face and shrugged. Her cock felt heavy and her balls felt heavy and each pump of her heart and her blood through her shaft made it all feel tighter and hotter and she knew that even when it did go away it was going to ache until she could go home and lock herself in the bathroom and get herself off. But she said, “Yeah. Eventually.”

“Does it— isn’t it uncomfortable? I mean. I always hear about blue balls, or whatever.”

“It’s kinda uncomfortable, but it’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

“Well what if—” Clarke stopped, opened and closed her mouth a couple times, and looked away again. On-screen the scene had progressed and she was distracted by watching for a minute, shifting on the couch. Lexa had sort of forgotten about the porn somehow too, and when she looked back she wished they’d gotten around to changing the channel because at the sudden sight of the blonde being fucked on all fours while eating out the redhead Lexa felt her dick jump and leak and she let out half a groan before she stopped it.

Clarke looked over at the sound, and it seemed to steady her, somehow. “What if we just did it?”

“What?” Lexa, more and more of her attention focused in her cock, couldn’t figure out what that could mean except the one thing she was sure Clarke didn’t mean.

“What if we did what they were doing and just… just take care of it?”

Lexa’s first instinct was to refuse, but then she replayed Clarke’s words in her head. “Both of us?”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah. I mean it’s a thing friends do, right? Like we said? We’re comfortable with each other. I trust you. It doesn’t need to be a big deal. And then we can watch something normal without both being all worked up and uncomfortable.”

Lexa found herself nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Clarke echoed. She turned back toward the screen and Lexa did the same, but they both kept peeking at each other, not sure how to start. After a minute, Clarke slid her hand into her shorts, and Lexa followed suit. She ran her hand down to where her cock was jutting up and touched it lightly through the stretched fabric of her boxers. It twitched and she bit her lip, carefully cupping her palm around the base of her shaft and sliding it lightly up and down her length. She could already tell it’d take about thirty seconds to make herself come if she tried, but she glanced over at Clarke and her hand was moving slowly, so Lexa did the same. It didn’t make much difference, especially when she realized she could hear Clarke’s breath catch, and saw her reach a little further into her underwear, the muscles in her forearm shifting visibly. Lexa felt the need to come surge, and squeezed the base of her dick tightly and tried to keep her hips still until her almost-orgasm had subsided again. Even for her, that would have been fast.

She looked away from Clarke and back at the screen, and somehow that helped a little. She still only stroked with the barrier of her boxers between her hand and her dick, but then Clarke started making these soft little noises. Lexa tried to tune them out, but they were so breathy and husky and hot and her hand started to speed up in time with Clarke’s quickened breathing, and before she could stop it she felt her shaft swell and her balls tighten and she choked down a strangled noise as she came, hips twitching up off the couch as she pumped out what felt like huge jets of come into her shorts.

She was still holding her cock through the last twitching pulses and trying to get her breathing back to normal when she heard a little moan and made the mistake of looking over at Clarke. Her hand was moving fast now, arm shaking and breasts heaving as she rubbed her clit, and Lexa was so mesmerized by the sight that she almost missed Clarke jerking her head back toward the tv with a guilty flush. The idea that she’d been watching Lexa come made her feel weird, hot and lightheaded, and the last measure of come drizzled out of her cock with a little more force than usual.

Everything was sticky and wet and she was just beginning to regret the mess she’d made of her boxers when Clarke let out a low moan and Lexa turned to watch her hand moving even more furiously, her head falling back, breasts jiggling as she shook and her hips jerked against her hand. It was just about the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

The thought made her tear her eyes away, that and Clarke sighing and pulling her hand out, fingers visibly glistening wet. Lexa swallowed hard.

“Was that good?” Clarke wiped her hand on her thigh.

“What?” The question came out automatically, but Lexa knew what Clarke was asking, and she shrugged and nodded at the same time. “Yeah, it felt good. Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.”

They both sat there in silence for a minute until the porn noise from the tv sunk back in and they reached at the same time for the remote. Their hands almost touched, but they both pulled back at the same second, and then laughed, a little unsteadily.

“I should probably wash—” they both started to say at the same moment, and laughed again, and nodded.

“You can go first,” Lexa said, and immediately regretted it as Clarke got up and she was left there looking at the wet spot that had soaked through her sweatpants. She pulled the waistbands up and peeked beneath and groaned at the mess, which was every bit as bad as it felt, splatters of come coating the inside of her boxers, smeared all across her belly and thighs. Worst, she wasn’t even fully soft, her cock still bobbing up from her hip, shaft thickened and head shiny and dark pink. She knew it was watching Clarke get off that had done it, but that didn’t mean anything, right? It seemed like Clarke had maybe liked watching her, too, so it couldn’t. It was just because it was like porn in real life, that was all. Normal.

Clarke returned from the bathroom and Lexa hurried in after, cleaning herself up as quickly as she could. But there was no fixing her boxers and the stain on her sweats wasn’t drying fast enough. She agonized about it for a couple of minutes before wrapping a towel tightly around her waist and heading back into the tv room.

“Hey Clarke.”

“Yeah?” Her friend turned, and her brows furrowed in confusion at the towel.

“Could I, uhh. Borrow some shorts or something? I kind of.” Lexa gestured, vaguely, and blushed all over again. “Made kind of a mess.”

“Oh!” Clarke caught on and reddened too, but nodded. “Yeah, sure. Come on, you can raid my gym drawer.”

In Clarke’s bedroom, Clarke rummaged through her dresser and offered up a couple pairs of shorts and sweatpants to choose from, though she didn’t have any underwear that wasn’t panties, which they blushingly agreed would not work. Lexa chose from the pile the shorts she knew Clarke liked least, the ugly yellow lacrosse shorts she’d stolen from her lame almost-boyfriend Finn. She pulled them on without dropping the towel, a practiced maneuver from the locker-room.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You should just keep them, they look better on you.”

“Nothing looks better on me than you, Clarke.” Lexa said dryly. She wondered if that was weird to say after what they’d just done, but it was something she’d said before, so she thought it was probably okay. Jerking off next to each other once didn’t change anything, after all.

“Thanks, but I meant better than Finn.”

“Oh,” Lexa chuckled, but smiled. But Clarke was still looking at her wearing Finn’s shorts and now she had another of those curious looks on her face. “What?”

“Are you big?”

“What?”

Clarke was bright red. “Like. Bigger than average? Is your dick bigger than average? Because Finn’s bulge never looked that big in those shorts at all.”

“Thanks?” Lexa replied uncertainly, and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess a little? But not much.”

“Have you measured it?”

Lexa rolled her eyes, but admitted, “Yeah. But look it’s not—I mean you know it gets bigger, right? So like comparing by how it looks now isn’t gonna—it’s not a fair comparison, probably. Why am I defending him?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke laughed, “But what do you mean right now isn’t fair?”

“I mean, like. Maybe he was soft when you were looking. And I’m not. Not totally.”

“But you just came. I thought you said it was good?”

“Yeah, I did. It was, I swear. Sometimes it just doesn’t go away all the way.”

Clarke was now staring at her crotch with a look of vague concern. Lexa covered her face with both hands.

“Clarke, please stop staring at my junk.”

“Sorry. I just— I’m just curious. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I’m sorry. It’s just, the porn, and everything.” She waved her hands in front of her face in an apologetic, flustered flap. “I’ll stop.”

“I know, it’s okay. Just we keep talking about it and it’s never going to go away if I keep thinking about it.”

“We could just do it again. Would that help?”

Lexa was caught by surprise by the suggestion, though she wasn’t sure why. That had been Clarke’s idea for how to help last time, so why not again. She considered. “I’ll just ruin another pair of shorts, though.”

“So don’t wear them.”

“What?” Lexa was getting tired of sounding like an idiot, but Clarke just kept surprising her.

“If you’re not wearing them, you won’t get them messy.”

“But then what do I wear?”

“Nothing. We’ll just—” she paused like she was making sure she had her thoughts straight, and then nodded: “We’ll do it naked.”

Lexa hoped Clarke didn’t noticed the way her cock reacted to that idea, but then realized if she was going to go through with it she’d better get used to the idea of Clarke seeing exactly what her cock was doing. She crossed her arms against her chest and thought about it. For a little too long, since Clarke began speaking again impatiently.

“It’ll be good research,” she said, “Like the porn was okay, I guess, but seeing for real will be more helpful, right? I can see what you do and you can see what I do and then we’ll know for the future. For when we’re dating people.” Lexa tried not to notice the swooping rollercoaster ride happening in her chest as Clarke went on. She had a point. If they were serious about research (and if they weren’t, what the hell were they doing?) then this would definitely help, so there was no reason not to do it.

She still hesitated another second before nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay,” said Clarke, and then there was another uncertain pause, a moment where neither of them were quite sure what came next. Finally Clarke said, “Let’s go back to the couch,” and led the way there, grabbing the towel Lexa had discarded and bringing it with her. She laid it across the couch and sat down on it, and after a second Lexa joined her. It was a big enough towel to keep a couple feet between them, but it was less space than there had been the first time.

On screen the same movie was still going, but now the two women were kissing around the head of the man’s cock. Lexa felt hers thicken and push up against the heavy mesh of the shorts. She started to reach for the pillow out of habit but stopped herself, folding her hands together and trying not to feel weird about just letting her erection grow in her shorts without hiding it. But that was the point, right?

Beside her, Clarke shot her a nervous little smile, and then tugged off her shorts and her underwear like she was ripping off a bandaid. Lexa felt her cock spring upright at the first tiny glimpse of short blonde curls and the glistening pink lips between soft pale thighs. She swallowed hard and tugged the borrowed shorts down to her knees. At first the waistband caught on her cock and dragged it down, but it came free and slapped hard against her belly, making Lexa grunt. Clarke turned to see what’d happened, and stared. She even leaned closer, resting a hand on Lexa’s shoulder so she could get a different angle to peer at her dick. Lexa tried to take steady breaths and calm herself down, but found it difficult, and as Clarke watched a droplet of pre-come formed in the slit of her head.

“Oh wow,” Clarke breathed, still staring, “Are you that turned on still?”

“I guess,” Lexa grumbled.

Clarke smiled. “Don’t be grouchy, I think it’s cool.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Because I get to see. I’ve always wondered what it looks like. It’s so pretty.”

“Wait, you’ve always wondered—like about dicks in general, or like about—mine?”

Clarke flushed and pressed her face against Lexa’s shoulder. “Both?”

Lexa’s cock twitched and another couple drops of clearish fluid pushed the first out of the way, sliding down the smooth, swollen head. Clarke bit the shoulder of Lexa’s t-shirt. Lexa raised a brow at her and Clarke shrugged, looking a little embarrassed but defiant.

“A dedicated researcher enjoys their work, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just really pretty.”

“Dicks are not pretty.”

“Why, because it’s a feminine word? You’re a girl.”

“That’s not what I mean, I mean they’re weird-looking.”

“Yeah, but it’s a pretty weird. I don’t know, I like it. It’s such a nice color, and it’s so smooth. I like how yours curves way more than that guy’s.” She gestured at the tv screen without even looking at it.

Lexa flushed, but this time at least part of it was pride. “Really?”

“Really. Are you going to touch it? I want to see how handjobs work.”

“Okay, okay.” Lexa wrapped her hand around her shaft and gave it a slow stroke, up past the head and back down to the base. She glanced back at Clarke.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Clarke said, “Pretend I’m not even here.”

There was no way that was going to happen, but Clarke leaned back away from her shoulder, and Lexa stroked again, and again, setting a slow and steady rhythm with her hand and match her breathing to it. She glanced over at Clarke. “You’re going to too, right?”

Clarke nodded, and didn’t need to be reminded again before carefully tracing a finger between her legs. Lexa leaned over, but it was an awkward angle.

“I can’t really see what you’re doing like this.”

“Oh. Umm. You could sit on the coffee table?”

“But the towel,” Lexa said. “Could we just like. Turn?" She gestured with a finger and Clarke nodded.

“That might work." She kicked her shorts off her ankles and picked her legs up onto the couch, turning to face Lexa. Lexa dropped her shorts the rest of the way too and turned toward Clarke. She felt even more exposed like this, but she assumed Clarke did too, and the view was more than enough to distract her from self-consciousness. From here she could see all of Clarke, lips opening like petals, pink and plump and damp.

“Better?” Clarke asked, and Lexa nodded.

“If it works for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah. It does.”

“Okay.”

Lexa wrapped her hand around her dick again, and tried to find that same careful pace despite how fast her heart was beating. Her shaft was already slick with pre-come and her hand slid easily up and down, fingers bumping over the ridge behind the head each pass. She slowed down even further, letting go to just run fingers up and down the shaft, ignoring the head altogether. It was too much while looking at Clarke, watching her fingers slide between her lips and circle and then retreat the trace little patterns around what must be her clit. Each time she’d dip her fingertips a little further inside herself, and even after coming once already Lexa felt her load churning in her balls, ready to be released just from watching.

Research, she reminded herself, and she made sure to make mental note of the way Clarke just grazed over the head of her clit, like it was sensitive, and how she worked the first knuckle of two fingers into her opening, and then gradually the next, wetness seeming to drip out around her fingers as she pushed them in and out. She found a rhythm, and Lexa tried to match it, closing her hand around her bobbing dick and stroking it in time with Clarke’s fingers in her pussy. She actually thought the words _Clarke’s fingers in her pussy_ for the first time and had to squeeze again to keep from getting too excited. She let go and reached down, gently playing with her balls for a minute instead, cupping them in her hand and touching lightly.

“Does that feel good, too?” Clarke’s voice was a surprise, especially because of how low and husky it had gotten. Lexa let go altogether and just rubbed both hands up and down her thighs, quad muscles strung tight beneath her palms.

“Yeah,” she said, “Have to be careful, though. They’re delicate.”

“How come you stopped?”

“I was getting too excited. How are you? You look—”

“What?”

“Wet.”

“I am.” Clarke smiled sheepishly and Lexa smiled back. She didn’t ask why, but lifted her chin and instead asked,

“So is that as far in as you put them? Your fingers, I mean. Is that as far as I should go? With whoever I’m dating,” she tacked on the end quickly.

“What? Oh, no, I just. I’m working up to it. I’ll put them all the way in.”

“Is there room for more than that? More than your finger-length, I mean?”

“I think so?”

“Because, I mean—. Your fingers aren’t very long.”

Clarke caught on, looking at Lexa’s fingers wrapped around Lexa’s cock, all longer than her own fingers. She licked her lips, and nodded. “Yeah, there’s more room.” It definitely wasn’t the thought of Lexa’s fingers and cock specifically that made her insides flutter and clench as she pushed her fingers in the rest of the way. Lexa made a little noise as she watched. She was squeezing her cock again, grip tight around the base, muscles clenched tight, especially the abs revealed where her shirt had ridden up.

“Are you going to come?” Clarke asked.

Lexa shook her head. “Not yet.” Clarke looked a little disappointed, and so she added, “I want to wait till you do.”

“But I want to see,” Clarke said.

“You come first, and then I’ll wait till you’re done so you can watch?” She was amazed at how easily the words were coming out of her mouth, now, things finally starting to feel a little less weird. They were still plenty tense, but it was a good kind, like fuses fizzling in her blood, building the anticipation for the fireworks to come.

“Okay. Okay, that works.” Clarke plunged her fingers back into herself, starting to pump them in and out faster, until Lexa could actually hear the wet noise of each thrust. It made her squirm and grab her knees again, trying to slow her breathing down. She focused on the details, trying to memorize the rhythm, trying to imprint in her memory the way Clarke’s right hand teased her clit when she brought it down to join in. Her cock was dripping steadily now, a glaze of pre-come coating her shaft and dripping down into the neat patch of dark hair and even onto her thighs and balls. She was extra glad Clarke had brought the towel. She wasn’t the only one who needed it, either. She could see wetness on the insides of Clarke’s thighs, matting the soft gold curls, slicking both her hands. Each thrust she was getting wetter, and moving faster too, and Lexa looked up to watch her breasts bounce as Clarke panted and moaned, voice rising.

“Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m— yeah,” Clarke managed, and her hands moved faster and faster and Lexa barely noticed she was panting right along with her until Clarke came with a moan, hips rolling and back arching and body shaking, and Lexa came with her, orgasm exploding out of her without even touching her cock again. She groaned and shuddered, the first burst of come shooting into the air to splatter onto her belly and thighs, the next jets landing on her abs and chest, and then spurting out onto the towel between them when she grabbed her dick and pulled it forward to try to contain the mess. She groaned and shut her eyes, hand pumping up and down her shaft fast and hard, emptying her balls onto the towel in heavy pulses of thick, creamy come. Finally, after what felt like forever, it began to slow, and she milked out the last of it with her fist and a couple deep breaths. She exhaled hard and heard Clarke say,

“Wow. No wonder you needed to borrow clean shorts.”

Lexa cracked open one eye. “What?”

“Do you always come that much? Is that normal?” She was wide-eyed and staring. Lexa opened her other eye and looked down at the mess, and shook her head.

“I think it’s a lot? I don’t know. I think it’s a lot for me? I’ve never— I’ve never nutted that hard before.”

“You said you were going to wait til I finished,” Clarke reminded, and she was teasing but there was some real disappointment in her expression, too.

Lexa felt bad. “Sorry,” she said, “I was going to, I just— I don’t know. I lost it. I wasn’t even touching.”

“Wait, really? That can happen?” Clarke’s blue eyes were big.

“Yeah. I mean not a lot but it happens. It happens to me, anyway. It’s a little weird but not that weird. I googled it once.”

“Yeah? Later let’s google how much people come, I want to know now.”

Lexa blushed, and shrugged. “If you want? Sorry. I guess I kind of ruined the towel. I didn’t want to get any on the couch but I couldn’t— it’s not like I can hold it in once it starts.”

“No, no, I get it, it’s cool. I mean it’s not a big deal. That’s what the towel was for. I just—” Clarke hesitated and bit her lip, cheeks red.

“What?”

“I was just imagining all of that going inside me and it seemed like a lot.”

Lexa almost swallowed her own tongue, and was sure that if she hadn’t just come buckets twice in the last half hour she’d be rock hard again already. Even as it was she could feel the blood heading back to her dick and quickly started doing chemistry homework in her head until the feeling went away. Clarke was looking at her when it had.

“You can’t just say stuff like that,” Lexa said, “Porny stuff. You’re going to start this all over again.”

“Porny stuff.” Clarke looked like she was trying not to laugh.

Lexa stuck her tongue out at her. “You know what I mean! Dirty stuff. Like what you just said. Which I’m not going to repeat because it was dirty. You can’t say that.”

“Or you’ll get hard?”

“Clarke!”

“What?” She was grinning now, a shit-eating grin that made Lexa grin back but also want to hit her with a pillow.

“You know what.”

Still with that grin. “Yeah, now I do know.”

“I’m going to regret you knowing, aren’t I?” Lexa groaned.

Clarke laughed and shook her head. “I’ll only use my powers for good, I swear.”

“Uh-huh. What would ‘good’ even be, here?”

“Research, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Clarke unbent her legs and eased to her feet, quickly pulling her underwear and shorts back on. “I’m going to use the bathroom real quick,” she said, “And then you might want to take a shower?”

Lexa started to cover her face with her hands, then realized they too had come on them, and buried her red face in the back of the couch instead.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Clarke said, and Lexa could hear her smile. She nodded without raising her head, and listened to Clarke pad off to the bathroom.

She had the towel wrapped around herself by the time Clarke came back, and she jumped into the shower. She couldn't help but smile as she discovered she didn’t even have to ask for a clean t-shirt to borrow, because Clarke had one already waiting for her on the counter. The shower, hot at first while she washed and then cold at the end, shocked the last scraps of arousal out of Lexa’s system, and by the time she rejoined Clarke, wet hair coiled up in a braid around her head, she was ready for a nap more than anything. Clarke had turned on the ceiling fan and opened a window, and was curled up under a blanket on the couch watching Law & Order reruns.

She lifted the blanket when Lexa got near and she dove the last couple steps onto the couch, tumbling over and cuddling up against Clarke beneath the blanket. She spent exactly a minute thinking that maybe this should be weird, that they shouldn’t still be able to wrap up together so close like this and watch tv after what they’d just done, but that minute was all she needed to decide that nah, it was fine. Clarke didn’t seem to think it was weird and Lexa desperately wanted it not to be weird. She couldn’t lose this, no matter how interesting or exciting all the sex stuff was. As she dozed off with her head against Clarke’s shoulder she realized it was because this—despite how bizarrely amazing the evening had been and the fact that she’d definitely had the best orgasm of her life earlier—this moment right here was still the best part of her week.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can something be tagged a slow burn if it's also 100% smut? Because somehow that seems to be what I'm writing. Sorry? More new research progress next chapter, I promise. Science takes time, or whatever.

Lexa had been nervous that things at school on Monday would be weird, that once she and Clarke left the safe bubble of the Griffins’ third floor that the real world would sneak back in and make everything awkward and awful. Clarke would regret it and it would ruin their friendship and on and on and on until she barely slept an hour Sunday night and turned up for school exhausted and already preemptively sad. But it turned out all her worrying was for nothing. Clarke met her in the parking lot with a smile as always, texted her during English like always, sat next to her and teased her about her voracious appetite at lunch like always. Everything went exactly as it always did, to the point that Lexa started to wonder if she’d imagined the whole thing. But it was a busy week for both of them and there was never really a moment to talk about it anyway.

By the time the next Saturday rolled around, Lexa turned up at Clarke’s house not sure what to expect. Had it just been a one-time thing? Were they going to talk about it? Did she want it to happen again? Actually she was pretty sure about that last one; she definitely wanted it to happen again. She’d been trying not to get her hopes (or, yes, her dick) up but she still had to sit in her car in Clarke’s driveway for a minute and take deep breaths and think about calculus and hoarders until she was good and soft before she could go ring the doorbell and keep thinking about them all the way up the stairs behind Clarke in her yoga pants.

“So I was thinking,” Clarke said as she shut the door to the tv room behind them, not wasting any time, “Last Saturday was fun, right?”

“Yeah,” said Lexa, a little too quickly, but Clarke just smiled.

“Yeah. So I was thinking maybe we could do it again. If you want to? We don’t have to.”

“No, no, I think that’d be. That’d be fun. Sure. Fun and…educational.” Lexa was nodding and nodding, but Clarke was smiling even brighter, so she stopped herself and smiled back.

“Yeah, exactly. Educational. Just seeing something once doesn’t really teach that much, right?” Clarke bit her lip and crossed the room, grabbing a towel out of the bathroom and heading over to spread it out on the couch again before grabbing the remote.

Lexa blinked but trailed after her. “Oh, we’re— right away. Okay.”

“Sorry, did you want to do something else first?” Clarke looked back at her, brows lifted and eyes big, her concern obviously genuine.

“No, it’s just— uhmm.” Lexa sat down on the couch and blushed for the first but certainly not the last time that night. She gestured awkwardly at her crotch. “I’m not— you know. Hard. Yet.”

Clarke followed her gesture to her crotch, eyes lingering on the soft bulge of Lexa’s package in her soccer pants. It definitely looked a lot smaller like this than she remembered from the week before, and Lexa shifted her hands closer to try to hide it. “That’s okay,” Clarke said, “It’ll get there, right?”

“Well, yeah. I just mean it’s not, like. Worth seeing.” Lexa said it and then regretted it, stumbling to backtrack, “Not that it’s ever ‘worth seeing,’” she said with air quotes and all, “I just meant it’s even weirder looking like this, and like—”

“Lexa.” Clarke sat down beside her and looked at her earnestly. “It’s fine, okay? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” But as much as she meant that she couldn’t help adding, “But if you’re okay with it, I’d kind of like to see. I mean they told us in health class how it changes but it’d be different to see it for real, out of a textbook,” she explained. She smiled crookedly and reminded, “Research.”

Lexa was still a little on-edge, but Clarke’s smile always managed to calm her down and this time was no different. She let her own mouth mirror that little smile and echoed, “Research.” After another moment to think about it, she nodded. “Okay.”

Clarke bit her lip to hold in just how excited her grin was as Lexa lifted her hips off the couch and pulled her pants down. Her boxers briefs were white with a grey band that fit snug over the flat plane of her abdomen, and Clarke kept chewing on her lip as she took it in, staring a little at the lump between her legs, trying to make out the different parts. Lexa caught her looking and they both reddened. To make up for it, Clarke stood up and skimmed out of her yoga pants, sitting back down in little blue boyshorts.

“Same time?” she suggests to Lexa, who looked relieved, and nodded. On a silent count of three, they both pushed their underwear down and then turned to look at each other. Lexa’s nerves and self-consciousness at being the center of attention had kept her soft despite the anticipation, and her cock lay small and still against the crease of her thigh. Clarke leaned over against Lexa’s shoulder to look like she had the first night, saying without thinking, “Wow.”

“Wow what?”

‘Wow it’s really small’ had been on the tip of her tongue but it seemed like probably the wrong thing to say, so Clarke quickly changed gears slightly. “Wow it really grows a lot. That’s kind of amazing.” She leaned her cheek on Lexa’s shoulder, knee touching her thigh as she pulled her legs up onto the couch. The contact made blood start to trickle down toward her dick, but Lexa was struggling with the weight of Clarke’s scrutiny and it wasn’t enough to do more than start to chub up her shaft a little bit. Clarke could tell she was tense, and rubbed her arm. 

“Lexa, hey. It’s just me. And if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to. If you’re not into it it’s okay.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but Lexa knew her too well not to see it anyway when she glanced over and very briefly met Clarke’s eyes. She shook her head and put her hand over Clarke’s on her arm, giving it a squeeze.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said, even if her dick seemed to be saying the opposite, “I’m just…nervous. Could we put something on, maybe? It’s just feeling like a lot of pressure, and I know that’s dumb, and I really don’t mind if you want to watch, I’m just having trouble getting started. I can’t, like. Get out of my own head. You know?”

Clarke knew, and she squeezed Lexa’s hand back and nodded. “Totally. Of course.” She grabbed the remote and punched in the porn channel immediately without even having to scroll through the guide, and then stared hard at the screen as Lexa turned to raise a brow at her. “Did you memorize it?” 

Clarke flushed but turned to give Lexa an arched brow look right back. “Maybe.”

Lexa grinned. “Uh-huh.” 

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“Uh-huh.”

They both grinned sideways at each other, and Lexa’s nerves melted, half from Clarke’s smile and half from the knowledge that Clarke had been thinking about this too, enough to have gone back and found the channel and memorized the number before she arrived. She relaxed back into the couch a little, hands knit together on her stomach, and tried to figure out what was going on on-screen because the first shot just looked like a writhing mass of skin.

“It was supposed to be—” Clarke started and then stopped herself, and Lexa laughed.

“You looked it up!”

“Okay, I did some research. Some pre-research. For our research. I’m sorry that I like to be prepared!”

“I’m not. It’s awesome.” Lexa waited a moment before adding, “Awesomely nerdy.”

“Says the girl who’s got valedictorian locked up already.”

“Says the girl who’s been giving me a run for my money.”

They were grinning at each other when a deep groan had them both turning back to the screen instead, just in time to see one woman finish sliding a strap-on into another.

“Whoa,” said Lexa, eyes widening. “You picked this?”

Clarke shrugged too-casually. “I mean, of the stuff that’s on at this time it’s the only thing that didn’t seem gross or sleazy or hardcore, I don’t know, we don’t have to watch it, we can find something else, or stream something, or whatever—”

“Clarke, hey, I wasn’t— I wasn’t complaining. I was just surprised,” Lexa reassured her quickly, reaching over to touch her elbow. She hesitated a second, and then nudged Clarke with her elbow and gestured with her head toward her lap. “See?”

Clarke turned to look and found that Lexa’s dick was visibly bigger than it had been. She watched, fascinated, and asked, “So, you’re into it?”

“I’m a teenage lesbian and it has two naked women screwing each other.”

“And here I was afraid you had standards.”

“I have standards. My dick does not.” Lexa blushed as soon as she’d said it, but Clarke’s laugh made her smile before she turned back to look at the screen again.

Clarke continued to watch Lexa’s cock as it gradually thickened and grew and began to wobble its way upright. She bit a knuckle, and squeezed her own thigh with her other hand to keep from touching it or herself. Lexa watched the movie, but Clarke watched Lexa, occasionally glancing up at the screen but mostly keeping an eye on her dick, which was wavering in the air a couple inches off her hip, not as erect as she’d been last Saturday but a lot closer in size than she’d been a few minutes ago. “So that’s what it looks like when it’s only partly?” she asked, “And sometimes it just stays like that?”

Lexa nodded. “It’s called a semi,” she said, “Like semi-hard?” Clarke glanced up and Lexa shrugged. “I mean, that’s what I read and I’ve heard people say it. It’s better than partly, at least. And more technically correct since it’s not that only part of it is hard, it’s that all of it is semi-hard.”

Clarke laughed at the last and rolled her eyes fondly. “A semi, got it. Nerd,” she said before going back to studying it. She hesitated, and then hesitated some more. In the background, fake moans and the sound of skin slapping together filled in the silence. Lexa waited, but no question came and after a minute she turned back to the movie. She felt herself getting harder, the blood flooding down into her crotch to fill out her cock, felt it swell and stiffen and stick up straigher. Clarke was still watching, and now that made it go faster instead of slower, a rush of arousal suddenly jerking her to fully erect, taut and throbbing. Clarke was staring, wide-eyed, legs crossed tightly to squeeze her thighs as heat pooled between them. She’d just swallowed to wet her mouth enough to say something when the porn suddenly reminded her of its existence when the woman getting fucked on-screen started having a very loud orgasm. 

“Wow,” they both said. They turned back to watch, and after a couple minutes, Lexa noticed Clarke’s hand slip between her thighs. She started teasing herself, and Lexa did too, but Clarke seemed to be more worked up to begin with this time, and Lexa leaned over a little to get a look at wet fingers being pressed and curled inside of her. The sound of them moving slickly in and out was enough to send Lexa abruptly over the edge. She shot off onto the towel again, nowhere near as much as last week, a few quick, hard jets of come striped across the fabric before the last drips were squeezed out and shaken off as she finished. 

Clarke was watching less discreetly than she had been the first time, and a couple minutes later she shut her eyes tight and came, rocking down onto her own fingers, stroking her swollen clit until she tensed and gasped and squeezed her thighs together around her hand. Lexa wiped herself carefully off on a corner of the towel as she watched, and when Clarke opened her eyes and found her looking, Lexa smiled a little. “How was it?”

“Good,” said Clarke, wiping her fingers on the towel and covering a yawn with her shoulder. 

“Better or worse than last week?”

“Hmmm. About the same? How about you?”

“Ehhh,” Lexa shrugged and Clarke raised a brow curiously. “Too fast, I think? Like it was better than nothing, but it wasn’t that great. Last week was better.” Clarke was pulling up her underwear so Lexa did the same, adjusting the lie of her cock in her shorts before pulling her pants up too.

Clarke nodded like she understood. “Do you need to do it again?”

Lexa shrugged. “What do you want to do?”

“I actually kind of want to take a nap,” Clarke admitted, “But if you want….”

Lexa smiled and stood, balling up the towel and tossing it across into the bathroom while Clarke turned off the tv. “Nah. We can nap. A nap sounds pretty great.”

“Great.” Clarke smiled back and patted the couch beside her, and Lexa lay back down on her side so they could both fit. Clarke stretched out beside her and pulled Lexa’s arm around her waist, and Lexa rested her head in Clarke’s shoulder. They were both asleep within minutes.

———————————————-

Clarke woke up first, and the first thing she noticed was Lexa’s hand on her boob. The second thing she noticed was Lexa’s dick poking her in the back of the thigh. She lay still for a minute, deciding what to do, but then stopped herself and shut her eyes again, concentrating on what it felt like. This was Research, too, she told herself, deciding how she felt about things like less-than-platonic cuddling (not that _this_ was less than platonic, but she could imagine) and learning what being touched like this was like. She tried to make her answer as analytical as possible, but it boiled down to the hand on her breast being nice but only nice and nothing better, since it wasn’t really doing anything, and the erection pressed against her thigh being a little hot but only because it gave her ideas not because it was actually doing anything either. She’d like everything better if they weren’t just laying still, she hypothesized.

This theory was partly confirmed when Lexa began to wake up, stretching and rubbing against Clarke like a cat as she did. Her palm rubbed across Clarke’s nipple, which caught her attention, and then the bulge in her pants pushed against Clarke’s ass, and that did too. Lexa’s yawn meant she was really waking up, and Clarke rolled over in her arms before she had a chance to realize what she’d been doing in her sleep and get too embarrassed. Instead, she woke up with Clarke pressed against her front, which still meant Lexa’s dick was touching her leg, but she figured that’d be a little less likely to freak her out than having grabbed Clarke’s boob in her sleep.

“Hey,” Lexa said, her voice soft and sleepy. It made Clarke smile.

“Hey,” she said back. She wriggled a little closer, leaning her forehead against Lexa’s. The brunette mumbled a little and tried to swallow another yawn, rubbing Clarke’s back absently just for something to do with her hand as she fought her way awake.

“You awake there, Lex?”

“Yeah. I think. Mostly.”

Clarke kissed her cheek and patted her hip. “You can do it. No going to sleep for real yet, it’s too early.”

“I know, I know,” Lexa grumbled, but she stretched a little more and licked her lips and opened her eyes. Clarke looked back at her from inches away, only just far enough to really see each other’s faces, so Clarke saw the exact moment that Lexa realized her p— her semi-hard cock, Clarke corrected herself mentally— was touching Clarke’s thigh. Her eyes widened and she got a moment of panic in them before Clarke stepped in.

“It’s cool, it’s okay. You must’ve had a dream or something.”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa said anyway, trying to pull her hips back away so they wouldn’t touch. Clarke didn’t stop her from breaking contact, but she did touch her side gently, soothingly.

“I’m serious, it’s fine. It’s not like it was on purpose. And it actually gave me an idea.”

“Still, I’m s—wait, what idea?”

Clarke steeled herself, and answered, “I was thinking maybe I could touch it.” She saw Lexa’s eyes go even wider. “I mean just through your pants, I guess? Like with my hands. I have to touch one someday, I’d like to start figuring out how.”

Lexa seriously considered pinching herself until Clarke reminded her that this was all practice for eventual sex with someone else, but even that couldn’t really put her off, not when her cock had gone from sleepy half-hearted semi-erect to a primed and ready rocket launcher in her pants in half a second flat at the very idea of Clarke putting her hands near it, even through two layers of clothing. “Ummmm. Okay.”

“Are you sure? Are you awake enough to decide?” Clarke was a little kidding with the last one, reaching up to pat Lexa’s cheek. Lexa smiled back dryly.

“Yes, I’m awake enough. If you want to, let’s. You’re right, it’s good research.”

“I do want to," Clarke said, “And yeah, it is.”

Lexa nodded, and they both looked down at the bulge in Lexa’s pants, a more obvious tent than it had been a minute ago. Clarke reached down and traced the line of it with a fingertip from top to bottom and back. Lexa bit her lip, and started conjugating Latin verbs in her head because she could already feel the pressure building up in the base of her cock and she couldn’t reach down and squeeze to hold it back, not with Clarke’s hand there.

“So, right now is this still a semi or is it all the way hard?” Clarke asked.

Lexa swallowed. Her voice sounded thick. “It’s all the way now.”

“But it wasn’t a minute ago. That didn’t take as long as before.”

“No. Sometimes it’s fast.” She didn’t offer to explain why. Clarke had said it was okay to enjoy their research, but Lexa still wasn’t sure she wanted to try to put words to the heat surging in her belly, making her feel like she had to spread her thighs a little to fit her package between them, shaft hard and thick and heavy, pulsing with her heartbeat, balls feeling swollen and weighted down, somehow full with a huge load despite having come once already. She had a feeling this one wouldn’t be as ‘ehhh’ as the first.

Clarke ran her finger up and down again, outlining the shaft where it pushed against her pants. “It’s really warm. Is this the head here?” She could feel a ridge even through the cloth and rubbed her thumb against it. 

Lexa looked away, up at the ceiling as she nodded, eyes shut tight. Words seemed too difficult, all of her focus needed to avoid coming already. She was already breathing hard. “Mmhmm.”

“Does that feel good? Touching it there?” Clarke’s thumb was a slow circular drag on the tip, and even muffled by pants and boxers it made Lexa twitch and she almost whimpered too but bit down hard on her lip. Clarke made a little noise of surprise. “Was that—does that mean I did something bad? Or something good?”

“Good,” said Lexa, and so Clarke did it again. Getting bolder, she rubbed her whole palm over Lexa’s bulge now, giving it another up and down stroke and then curling her hand around it for a little squeeze before rubbing some more, up and down and up and down from head to root. 

Lexa clenched her fists around the edge of the couch cushions and shuddered, breathing hard through her nose. She could do this. She could. It was a science experiment, Clarke was rubbing her dick for science, that was all. It was over the pants anyway, that didn’t even count. Like was that even a base? Second, or something? First? Thinking about bases just had Lexa picturing Clarke in gym class softball, leaning in to crowd the plate with her ass stuck out, and she quickly switched to baseball stats. That worked for guys in movies? But she didn't actually know any. She didn't even like baseball. She wondered if Clarke could feel just how hot her skin was because to Lexa, her cock felt like it was trying to burn through her pants to get to Clarke’s hand. She’d never been so hard in her life, every nerve ending every drop of blood every scrap of sensation in her body concentrated in the throbbing length between her legs, and she’d been teetering on the edge of release since that first brush of Clarke’s fingertip. 

“What about you?” she blurted out, trying to stall a moment.

“What?” said Clarke. She didn’t pull her hand away but she did stop moving, just resting it there, gently cupping Lexa’s dick.

Lexa tried not to be so aware of such simple contact, but instead of being a break that helped her calm down and step back from the edge, the casual way Clarke was touching her, just holding her hard cock like it was normal, short-circuited her brain even further. “I mean— you, umm. Shouldn’t— like—”

“Actually,” said Clarke, jumping in to take over, “I was thinking maybe if you want, you could touch my boobs?”

Lexa’s only response was a questioning noise. She hoped it was questioning anyway. It might’ve just sounded like she was choking.

“If you want,” Clarke said, “I think it’d be good. You can figure out how to play with them and I can figure out what I like. And then I can do yours. I guess start over the shirt? But under would be okay, too, I think.”

It was too much for Lexa. The image of Clarke’s breasts on display, in her hands, was secretly her all-time most frequent wet dream, and the sudden reality of it coupled with Clarke’s warm hand still wrapped around her erection, gently squeezing, shoved Lexa headlong over the edge without any need for more help or any hope of pulling back. She got out a strangled, “Oh fuck,” before her cock swelled and her whole body clenched as she came. Despite how fast it happened Lexa still couldn’t hold in a wordless groan of pleasure as she felt the tension release and her cock begin pulsing, blowing her load into her boxer shorts. If earlier had been disappointingly short and unsatisfying, this was the opposite, her dick going off like an automatic and spraying shot after shot of thick hot come inside her pants as her hips thrust all on their own, pushing against Clarke’s palm. 

It felt like it went on forever, draining her balls completely before her dick finally stopped twitching and shooting, dribbling the last dregs into a puddle on her hip. She felt amazing, light and empty in a good way, and like she could curl up and nap forever, but satisfaction gave way to embarrassment as soon as the immediate rush of pleasure began to fade. Clarke was still touching her, her hand pressed lightly over Lexa’s cock, because she had barely started touching her at all before already Lexa had ended it. Lexa pulled away and hid her red face in the couch.

“Wow,” the blonde said quietly.

Lexa groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I got too excited,” Lexa groaned. Her words were muffled by the couch but she was too mortified to look up.

“Yeah but— why?”

“Clarke,” Lexa whined, “I’m just bad at it, okay? I can’t help it. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. It’s okay. I mean it’s not what I was expecting,” Lexa could hear the disappointment in Clarke’s voice even when she tried to keep it out, and it made her want to sink into the couch and vanish, “But it’s not bad. It's fine. We can try more stuff next week.”

So they were done for the night already, and she’d never even actually gotten to touch Clarke’s chest after all, and it was all her own fault. Lexa punched blindly at the back of the couch and made a frustrated noise into the cushion but she couldn’t blame Clarke for not wanting to continue after that.

Clarke reached over to tentatively pat her shoulder. “Lex, hey. Come on. What’s the matter? It's not a big deal.”

She struggled to find the words, but finally mumbled lamely, “I ruined your research.”

“Part of research is failed experiments, right?” Clarke said, and they both winced a little at her choice of words. But Clarke tugged on Lexa’s shoulder until she reluctantly rolled her head back. She couldn’t quite meet Clarke’s eyes, but she looked at her shoulder and let Clarke see her face, hair a little curly from sweat around her hairline, jaw and brows set in stubborn, grouchy lines, tell-tale signs of being mad at herself. Clarke rubbed her shoulder again. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Lexa. We still learned something, right?”

“What, like my dick is defective?”

“No, like we need to talk about it more so I know when we need to take things slower. Also,” she started, and then stopped short in hesitation and blushed, and Lexa braved a little glance up. “Also that making someone come is really hot.”

Lexa blushed too, surprised. “What? Really?”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah, that was— I liked it. It felt like…powerful?”

“Oh. Wow.” Lexa mulled that over for a minute, letting it sink in and nudge the embarrassment out. Clarke let her work through it, a little caught up in replaying it in her mind, herself. After a minute or two she shook her head to clear it and reached down to take Lexa’s arm and tug. 

“Come on,” she said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Wait,” Lexa blurted, and then hesitated before letting the words spill out in a rush. “I know I don’t deserve it but maybe could I try too?”

“Try what?”

“Touching you. Making you—” she went even redder and sat up. “Nevermind.”

“No! No, that’s. That’s. That’s only fair, right?” Clarke finally found her words despite the rush of heat between her legs that made her squeeze her thighs tight together. “You need to learn how to do that, too. We should do that. Yeah.”

“Oh. Really?”

Clarke nodded and found it difficult to stop. “Really. Here, let me lie down on my back and you can be on your side?”

Lexa nodded and made room and then stopped, hand hovering uncertainly in the air. Clarke pushed her legs apart a little. 

“Okay. Umm. Go ahead. Whenever you’re ready.”

Still Lexa hesitated, before slowly reaching down to touch a finger to where Clarke’s thighs met. She dragged it slowly lower, glancing back and forth between it and Clarke’s face. Between her legs was hot, more heat coming through the cloth than Lexa had imagined, but Clarke’s reaction was just a little nervous shifting. “Can you feel that?” Lexa checked.

“Nnnnot really? Almost? I’m not sure if I’m really feeling or imaginin—okay yeah, now I feel it.”

Lexa had pressed down harder, until she could actually feel Clarke’s body under the cloth, and nodded at Clarke’s confirmation. She rubbed her finger back and forth like that, first the tip and then the side so the whole length was pressed against Clarke at once. She tried to remember what she’d seen Clarke do the week before, and drew a circle with her finger around where she thought maybe her clit might be. She kept doing it, shifting the spot slightly and swirling her fingertip around until finally Clarke’s breath caught.

“Is there good?” Lexa asked, and Clarke nodded.

“Yeah that felt nice.”

Lexa wasn’t sure what to make of the word ‘nice’ but she did it again a few more times.

“Maybe a little lower?” Clarke suggested, and Lexa shifted incrementally lower until Clarke nodded. “Yeah, there. Try there. And maybe—maybe use a couple fingers?” She flushed a little but explained, “It’s hard to feel it enough through layers like this. I need more, I guess?”

“Okay.” Lexa nodded and did as Clarke had asked, rubbing her hand briskly around and around over the spot Clarke had picked. She was pleased when Clarke started nodding again right away.

“Yeah, okay. That’s better. Keep doing that.”

Lexa did, but after a few minutes, Clarke was shifting restlessly again, lifting her hips toward Lexa’s hand, and her mouth had pursed into a frustrated shape. Lexa chewed on her lip. “I’m not doing this right, am I?” she sighed.

“It’s not you,” Clarke said, “It’s just— do you mind if I take my shorts off? I think that would help. It’s just too many layers. And maybe I could, like. Move your hand a little? To show you? It’s just really hard to explain,” she explained, “And when you’re doing it right it’s even harder to say the right words.”

Lexa was pretty sure this was partly Clarke trying to make an excuse to help her out without embarrassing her by saying Lexa needed help, but Lexa knew she needed it, and that was the point of research anyway, right? To learn stuff they didn’t know? So Lexa swallowed down the sour feeling at not automatically being good at this either and nodded. “Okay.”

“Great,” said Clarke, lifting her hips and shimmying out of her shorts. Lexa swallowed more literally at the sight of Clarke in her underwear up close and personal, and her hand shook just a little as Clarke took it and laced their fingers together. She led them back to the same spot Lexa had been touching before, but this time the layer of fabric was much thinner so it was even warmer, and Lexa shivered at the knowledge that just a tiny fraction of a centimeter separated them. Clarke led her hand lower, and together they cupped her sex and squeezed gently, and Lexa felt hot all over when she realized Clarke’s underwear was damp. She pressed a fingertip against the spot and felt more wetness beneath, and both their breaths caught. 

Clarke dragged their fingers slowly up, back toward the earlier spot. Lexa propped her head up with her free arm, and watched as Clarke drew figure-eights around and over it with their fingers. She started moving a little faster after a few minutes, and occasionally dragged their hands down to push and rub against the wet spot between her legs, which Lexa realized was growing wetter. She could actually feel it on her fingertips now, and she wondered if Clarke could feel how fast her heart was beating. Clarke seemed kind of distracted, flushed down her throat and just like last Saturday Lexa wondered how far it went. As much as she liked Clarke touching herself with Lexa’s own fingers, it didn’t seem like Clarke was very close. Maybe there was a better way to do this?

“Are you close at all?” she asked, just to be sure.

Clarke hesitated, and then shook her head. “It’s not your fault at all it’s just kind of hard to get enough like this? I’m not sure why, I guess I got spoiled from having more contact or something, plus already getting off once. It’s my own fault.”

“It’s okay,” Lexa said, and while it’d be lying to say that she wasn’t a little disappointed, she’d heard it was trickier with vaginas, and she didn’t want Clarke to feel bad. Maybe it’d be better if they were doing it inside her underwear instead of over it, but she didn’t want to push too far by suggesting it when Clarke hadn’t mentioned the possibility. But she had mentioned something else. “I get it. I had an idea for something else we could maybe try if you want?”

“Like what?” Clarke looked up at her, curious and trusting and warm and it made Lexa stare back smiling dumbly for a second before remembering she’d been asked a question.

“I was thinking what if, like. You can touch yourself— the way you need, and I can just learn by watching, this time? And maybe it’d help if I did…you know. Some breast stuff? If you want? Like touch them for you?”

Clarke’s eyes went wide, but she nodded. “Yeah, okay, yeah. That’s a good idea. Let’s try it. Maybe that works better.” She let go of Lexa’s hand, and Lexa rubbed her fingertips together to feel the lingering sheen of slickness before reaching up to hover her hand over Clarke’s chest. She lowered it after a moment, and for the first time felt the soft weight of Clarke’s breast in her hand. She was completely enthralled right away, gently squeezing, cupping her palm around it, stroking the curve of the underside. She squeezed again a little harder, and Clarke made a noise. She stopped abruptly and looked up at Clarke’s face. Her eyes were closed.

“Was that too hard?”

“No, that was good. Do that more.”

Lexa did it more, kneading the soft mound, feeling the stiff point of a nipple brushing back and forth against her palm. She rubbed it with her thumb, and then caught it between her fingers, holding gently. Clarke made another little noise, but this time Lexa could tell it was a good noise. She glanced down and shivered at the sight of Clarke’s hand in her panties, fingers pushing against the cloth as they worked.

“You can go under,” Clarke said, teeth in her lip. “Touch for real.”

This time Lexa didn’t make her repeat herself. She let go and slid her hand up Clarke’s shirt, taking a deep breath when she felt the warmth of Clarke’s skin against her hand. It was so smooth, and soft, and then Clarke was taking a deep breath too, and her breast pushed up into Lexa’s hand and shook a little and Lexa realized that her dick was hard all over again and already dripping. She shifted a bit in the tiny bit of space between Clarke and the couch, making sure her hips weren’t touching Clarke this time, and tried to ignore it.

Instead she looked back at Clarke again, watching her fingers playing with her clit beneath the fabric while Lexa’s knuckles pushed against her t-shirt. She tugged down the fabric of Clarke’s sports bra and stroked her nipple, amazed at how different the skin felt, so so incredibly soft around the curve, but then drawn up tight at the nipple. She rubbed back and forth over the tip and then squeezed it a little, tugging gently. Clarke moaned, and she did it again and Clarke moaned again. Lexa held in a smile, but couldn’t keep her breath from catching as she saw Clarke’s hand start working faster between her legs.

“Keep doing that,” Clarke said, “That feels really good.”

Lexa rolled Clarke’s nipple between her fingertips and tugged again, then switched sides and began all over again with the other breast. Clarke was breathing faster, she could hear it and see her chest moving, feel her ribs shifting against her arm.

“Are you closer?” Lexa asked quietly.

Clarke nodded. “Getting there. Keep— keep doing that. It’s helping. A lot.”

“Okay,” said Lexa, thrilled she’d gotten at least one thing right for Clarke tonight. She swapped breasts again, squeezing and pulling and rubbing and tugging all a little harder when Clarke’s breathing pitched higher and her hand started to fly between her legs, little wet sounds of fingers pumping that made Lexa reach down and give her cock a quick squeeze to try to calm it down. It didn’t help, way too taken up with the knowledge that she was touching Clarke’s boobs, helping Clarke get off, listening to and watching Clarke make herself come. Those thoughts spun around and around in her head, and some part of Lexa admitted she probably wouldn’t be able to hold back for very long again, not with this happening. But she was determined to make sure that Clarke felt good first.

Not being able to touch both breasts at once was frustrating. There just wasn’t room for her to sit up and have both hands free, but switching back and forth meant one was always neglected, and as Clarke seemed to be getting closer, Lexa really wanted to help her over the edge to make up for disappointing her. She also wanted to know at least a little bit what it had felt like for Clarke earlier when she said making Lexa come had felt powerful.

She’d scooted down the couch to get her erection away from Clarke’s hip, but it meant her head was about even with Clarke’s chest, and that gave her an idea. She kept her hand working on the far breast, but leaned down and kissed the nipple of the other. Clarke made a noise of surprise, but when Lexa tried to pull back she found a hand on the back of her head encouraging her to stay. It didn’t take much urging at all. She licked the tight bud through the thin cotton until it was wet enough to stick and she could almost see rosy pink through it. It made her cock throb hard, but she wasn’t going to let go of Clarke’s breast to deal with it. 

Lexa kept tugging with her fingers and now sucked the other between her lips, flicking her tongue back and forth over the tip. Clarke’s body was shaking with how hard her hand was working, two fingers driven into herself and her thumb rubbing her clit from what Lexa could make out at a glance. Clarke was making little noises with each breath, little moans and needy whimpers, and Lexa pulled harder and sucked harder, hoping maybe it would help. She wasn’t sure if Clarke could feel enough through the cloth, so she even grazed her nipple a little with her teeth. Clarke said, “ _Fuck_ ,” and “ _Lexa_ ,” all high-pitched and then she pushed up against Lexa as her back arched and her hips started rocking hard into her hand as she tensed and shook and came. 

Lexa could actually feel her moaning, the sound vibrating from Clarke’s chest against Lexa’s arm and she kept teasing her nipples through Clarke’s orgasm, moaning around the one in her mouth as the sound of Clarke saying her name like that had Lexa seconds from coming again too. She did her best to hide it, holding as still as she could, back rigid and pushed back against the couch so she was as far from Clarke as possible, trying to will her dick not to unload. It twitched and pulsed and she pressed her mouth to the top of Clarke’s breast to hold in the noise she wanted to make, clenching her abs and thighs as tight as she could to hold back. She managed, but was still teetering on the edge when Clarke stilled.

She realized she still had her face in Clarke’s boobs and her hand around one of them, and while she was tempted to just stay there forever (because wow, not only were they beautiful, Clarke’s breasts were really comfortable) she picked her head up just enough to peek at Clarke’s face. She looked sleepy and happy, and her smile made Lexa grin back at her.

“Was that good?” she asked, and Clarke nodded, reaching down to squeeze her shoulder.

“That was really good,” she said, “How did you just know what to do?”

Lexa shrugged, but couldn’t stop smiling. She put her head back down, pillowed on Clarke’s chest for just one more minute, listening to her racing heartbeat come back to normal and giving her nipple one last lick. “I don’t know. I just guessed. I’m glad you liked it.”

“I liked it a lot. I’m going to have to pull on my nipples like that every time I get off, now.”

Lexa flushed an even darker shade of red and tried not to think about that mental image, all the more vivid now that she’d watched and helped it happen. She was still hovering so close to orgasm and she really didn’t want Clarke to see her come in her pants without hardly being touched for a second time in one evening. Clarke stroked her hair, fingers a little heavy and lazy, and Lexa concentrated on that. “What do you want to do now?” she asked. Lexa shrugged again.

“Whatever?”

“Maybe we could clean up and then watch a movie? A normal movie.”

Lexa nodded, still smiling, still without raising her head. “That sounds good.”

Clarke got up first, rolling away and off the couch with a dramatic grumble and heading to the bathroom. Lexa rolled over onto her stomach and stretched out. She groaned into the cushions as she did, because the change in position caught her achingly stiff cock between her belly and the couch, and the pressure was almost too much. She knew she should wait; in five minutes Clarke would be back and she could jerk off into a tissue in the bathroom like a normal person. But she was so close and five minutes felt like forever when she had just had her mouth and her hand on Clarke Griffin’s breasts for the first time and she’d gotten to help make her come and listen to Clarke moaning her name while she did. Besides, her boxers were already ruined anyway, between all the come she’d filled them with earlier and how bad her dick had been leaking since she first touched a finger between Clarke’s legs half an hour ago.

She rolled her hips against the couch and had to stifle another groan, and that made up her mind. She rocked her hips again, dragging her erection back and forth, thrusting against the cushion. It felt so good that she gave in completely and started rutting against it, faster and harder. It only took another minute or so before she lost the rhythm she’d found, humping erratically into the couch cushion as she came. Usually when she nutted for the third time in a row it didn’t last that long, and only the first couple hard jets sprayed up her belly and then a few more pulses slid out as she continued to thrust before finally the last of it drizzled slowly into the fabric. She didn’t think Clarke would notice any difference since the wet stain on her pants was already there anyway, so she rolled over onto her back to make sure it didn’t leak into the couch. 

 

When Clarke came back from the bathroom she found Lexa sound asleep, flopped on her back with an arm thrown over her eyes. Her t-shirt had ridden up, exposing the flat muscles of her stomach, and the wet fabric of her pants stuck to her dick so even soft its outline was clearly visible. She stopped and stared, not sure what to do and also struggling to look away. She said her name a couple times but Lexa didn’t stir, so finally Clarke found a blanket and draped it over her before heading to bed herself. 

She definitely was not wet all over again, she told herself firmly as she turned off the light, that was still just leftover from her orgasm. And if she were wet again it definitely would not be from looking at her best friend’s abs and damp dickprint while she slept. Or from wondering whether it was still damp because Lexa had come a third time. Or from trying to imagine how it would’ve happened if it were. Whether she had quietly come while she was sucking on Clarke’s nipples. Or if she had stuck her hand down her pants when Clarke went to the bathroom and jerked herself off hard and fast until her come splattered into her pants. If she’d thought about Clarke while she did it. All of these questions were just research, Clarke reminded herself. She just wanted to know how many times a person could come. And if doing stuff to other people was enough to make it happen. And what the preferred handjob technique was. That last one was especially important, and this evening’s attempt to find out hadn’t really gone as planned. She made a mental note to talk to Lexa about trying again, and it was with a soothingly organized list of questions and potential experiments in mind that she finally drifted off to sleep.

——————————————————————

Sunday morning Clarke woke up wet. Still wet or wet all over yet again she wasn’t sure, but her first thought was to wonder whether she could go wake Lexa up and get a repeat of the night before, maybe this time without her shirt between her friend’s mouth and her skin. But she stopped herself before she sat up, because that wasn’t what this was about. They weren’t just screwing around together, they were only doing it to learn, and going to Lexa just because she was horny was kind of the opposite of the point. So instead she slid her hand into her underwear and the other up her shirt, trying to remember exactly how Lexa had touched her breasts the night before as her fingertips skated over slippery folds. 

She spent a while stroking and tugging on her nipples as she fingered herself, but couldn’t quite seem to get to that peak, her orgasm receding each time she thought she was getting close until she was squirming her hips up off the bed in frustration and pushing two fingers in as deep as she could. She was wet enough to pound them in and out the way she usually liked, but something wasn’t working. Something was off, and she just couldn’t seem to recapture the way it had all felt with Lexa no matter what she tried. After a glance at the clock told her it had been half an hour already Clarke gave up in frustration. Her dreams—whatever they’d been—had left her groggy and unsettled and not in the mood to deal with trying to figure this out. She knew what would fix it, and hauled herself out of bed, changed into clean underwear, threw on some sweatpants, and headed back to the tv room.

Lexa was still asleep on the couch beneath the blanket Clarke had given her, though at some point during the night she’d rolled around and gotten herself tangled up in it. Clarke crouched beside her and patted her shoulder, whispering her name. She had to graduate to shaking her shoulder and saying her name at a normal volume before she groaned and put her arms over her face. 

“What, Clarke?”

“I want to make breakfast.”

Lexa groaned even more, a wobbly, put-upon noise like she was being subjected to intense and very unfair hardship.

“You’ve been asleep for eight hours.”

“You just want me to make you pancakes,” Lexa accused.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Claaaaarke.”

“Come on, please? I slept bad and had weird dreams and my head hurts and I just want to eat pancakes and have a movie marathon with you.”

Lexa groaned again, but they both knew there was no way she was really going to refuse, especially not after Clarke explained. She pushed herself up to sit. “Okay. But I think—” Lexa paused, and shifted around a little, then grimaced and blushed at the same time. “Oh, ugh.”

“What?”

“I think I fell asleep before cleaning up last night.”

“Yeah, I came back and you were passed out cold. Come on,” Clarke said, and she reached down to take Lexa’s hands and pull her friend to her feet. 

Lexa winced, nose wrinkling. “This is so gross.”

“What does it feel like?”

Lexa shook her head. “It’s just gross. It’s all like. Sticky. But dried. Let me go back to sleep, Clarke,” she groaned “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“You’re too sleepy to wash your own junk?”

“Yes,” Lexa replied, “I am way too sleepy to wash my own junk. Maybe if I go back to sleep long enough the mess will magically vanish. Or I’ll just have to sleep forever.” She attempted to fling herself dramatically back toward the couch. 

Clarke laughed and caught her with an arm around her waist and tugged her toward the bathroom, even as Lexa grumbled and pretended to fall asleep on her shoulder when really she was shuffling obediently along beside her. Clarke shut the door behind them both and opened a drawer for a washcloth, turning the water warm and soaking it. It took Lexa a minute to register that she was still there.

“I was just kidding, Clarke, I’m awake,” she said, though she wondered if maybe she wasn’t quite awake after all, confused about what was happening.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure I trust you not to curl up in the bathtub with a towel-pillow and go to sleep,” Clarke said, squeezing some soap onto the cloth and rubbing it together into a lather.

“That was one time!”

“Well, I’m not letting it be two. Not when there are pancakes at stake.” She gave Lexa what was meant to be a stern look, holding the cloth with one hand and with the other hooking two fingers in the waistband of Lexa’s soccer pants. She gave them a little tug downwards, but only a very little one, looking up at Lexa to make sure she wasn’t over-stepping. Lexa looked a little bewildered, but she gave a small nod, and Clarke pushed her pants off her hips. They fell the rest of the way, leaving Lexa in her white boxer briefs. The white fabric mostly hid the stains but looked stiff in a few places, and Clarke winced sympathetically and reached out to tap it with a finger.

Lexa was red again. “I can do it myself, Clarke. It’s gross, you don’t want to see.”

“I kinda do,” Clarke admitted, though she hoped Lexa didn’t ask why because she didn’t have an explanation. She ran the cloth under the warm water again to make sure it wasn’t too soapy, and then looked to Lexa again. “Besides,” she said, “I’m dragging you out of bed to make me pancakes. I owe you. It’s just fair.”

Lexa was still hesitant but Clarke seemed serious, and if Lexa was honest with herself, something about it sounded kind of nice. She nodded, and Clarke suggested, “Swap places with me and lean against the counter?” They did, and then Clarke had fingers in the band of Lexa’s boxers and was drawing them down her thighs, pushing them til they dropped to the floor. 

Lexa made a face and shut her eyes, cracking one open to peek down and wince again at the sight. “Ugh. You can back out, Clarke. It’s okay.”

“No way,” said Clarke, who they both knew never backed out of anything. She was amazed at how much come was dried on Lexa’s skin, and she wrung the cloth out and began wiping gently at her thigh, sweeping it up to her hip and back in circles. She did the other thigh next, easing them both into it before she moved to more sensitive areas. She rubbed the cloth over Lexa’s belly, lifting the hem of her t-shirt to clean her lower abs down to the neatly trimmed patch of dark hair at the base of her dick where the worst of it was. She rinsed the cloth and wrung it out again, soaping carefully but thoroughly.

“Is this really all from just once?” Clarke asked as she did, “We really need to google that average volume thing.”

Lexa hesitated. This was weird and kind of embarrassing, but it was also, as she’d expected, kind of nice. Weird-nice, but nice. Clarke was gentle and the cloth was warm and she’d worn herself out enough in the evening that she didn’t feel an erection coming on to mess things up, even as Clarke wrapped the cloth around her shaft and gently stroked it clean. Even as Lexa realized that Clarke was basically sort of giving her a handjob, or at least the same motions, and she was closer to actually touching her than she’d been through her pants the night before even though Clarke was being careful to only touch her with the cloth and never directly. 

She wondered for a second if that’s what this was, if Clarke just wanted to play with her dick but was afraid to say it. But Clarke was never afraid to say anything, and she was very serious about pancakes, and this didn’t actually feel like Clarke was trying to do anything but just softly cleaning her up like she’d said. So Lexa put that thought away. Instead she leaned back, widening her stance helpfully, and tried to just relax.

“No,” she admitted, “That’s twice.”

Clarke raised a brow, puzzled, and Lexa shrugged, a little sheepish, but still trying to play it cool. Cooler. “I might’ve again while you were in the bathroom.”

Clarke laughed, but it was a friendly laugh, and she rolled her eyes to go with it. “No wonder you were asleep.” She gave Lexa’s hip a playful slap like she would’ve her shoulder if she’d been standing. “You should’ve told me you could do three times. I’ll have to remember that next week.” Lexa tried not to grin at her too widely at the approval in her tone or the idea that there was already a next week in Clarke’s head.

Clarke wasn’t entirely sure why she’d insisted on doing this, but it was nice getting to be up close with Lexa’s dick and get a real look at it when she didn’t have to worry about it exploding in her face. It was soft and sort of cute, and the skin looked soft too once she’d washed it. She pulled the cloth gently down her shaft, still a little amazed by how much the size changed from when it was hard. She was surprised by how Lexa’s balls felt in her hand, too, the warm weight of them when she cupped them with the rag and carefully rubbed them clean, remembering what Lexa had said about them being delicate. She scrubbed the insides of Lexa’s thighs, then rinsed the cloth again until the soap was out and went over everything again to make sure she didn’t stay soapy. She even patted it all dry with a clean towel, reluctant to let go and struck by the sudden mental image of herself leaning forward to press a kiss to Lexa’s dick, sitting pink and harmless and pretty in the cloth in her hand. It was so tempting she actually swayed a little on her knees, but she pushed upright instead and gave Lexa’s ass a pat like her teammates did during games. 

“Good to go.”

Lexa somehow managed to look flustered and blissed out at the same time, like it had both woken her up and put her back to sleep, and she smiled at Clarke, bemused but pleased. “Thanks, Clarke. That was—”

“Weird, I know.”

“No. I mean, yeah. But nice.”

Clarke felt better hearing her say it and when Lexa smiled, she smiled back. “Good. I hoped it would be.”

They smiled at each other for another silent minute before Clark said, “Lemme go get you some clothes. Unless you brought extra clean stuff?”

Lexa shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t want to—” she hesitated and chose a different word, “Presume.”

“You were going to say ‘jinx it’ weren’t you?” Clarke knew her too well.

“Maybe.”

“Dork. Just bring some next time. We can throw this stuff in the laundry after breakfast.” 

“Is your mom home today?”

“No, she’s at a conference til Monday. She won’t see, don’t worry.”

“Okay. Great. This is all definitely worth pancakes.”

Clarke grinned. “Good. Pancakes. Yes. That was why I did it, after all.”

Lexa smiled back. “Obviously.”

—————————————————————

She felt a little like she was defiling something sweet and kind, but when she eventually went home late that night Lexa couldn’t sleep until she’d rubbed one out to the image of Clarke on her knees gently stroking her dick, close enough Lexa swore she could feel her breath on her skin. Clarke felt the same way but it didn’t stop her either, and she came squeezed tight around her own fingers wondering what Lexa’s cock would’ve tasted like if she hadn’t stopped herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things you may be asking yourself:
> 
> Q: "Why is it Saturday? Aren't all the movie night things Fridays?"  
> A: Yeah, but high school sports and events happen on Fridays, including football games, and I might want to write those in at some point. So I picked Saturdays. Because realism? I don't know why I care, but it's what I did.
> 
> Q: "Are they going to have a threesome or foursome? I really want/don't want that!"  
> A: Nah. No judgment if Clexoctanyaven (is this a thing? get Anya in on that if you're gonna do it!) is your thing but it just doesn't happen to be mine. I like these two with each other and no one else especially in HSAU. Sorry/you're welcome.
> 
> Q: "Are either of them going to date other people?"  
> A: I have no idea, but if they do it's obviously not going to be for long or mean anything or get smut written about it. This is a really Clexa-focused piece of filth.
> 
> Q: "Did they seriously not even do handjobs yet after sixteen thousand words? What is wrong with you?"  
> A: Nope, they didn't, and I have no idea either, dude. It just happened this way. My control over the words coming out of my fingers is apparently about the same level as Lexa's control over her dick.
> 
> Q: "So is this all it's going to be the whole time? Will they ever get to actually touch each other?"  
> A: I solemnly swear that there will be deliberate skin-to-skin contact in Chapter 3. Handjobs will happen. I promise. I may have even already written some.
> 
> Q: "Does this have a plot?"  
> A: No, and the chances of it growing one are slim to none. There is literally no point to this except really excessive amounts of smut and some cuteness (I hope).
> 
> Q: "Can I still suggest stuff I'd like to see?"  
> A: Yes!! Please do, I love getting suggestions. I can't promise I'll use it, but sometimes things spark a new idea, so go for it. Most of this chapter was already written before I started getting comments so they weren't really incorporated in here except one (sort of), but going forward with the exception of adding more people like I mentioned above and daddy kink (which is just not my bag either sorry), I'm open to at least considering whatever, so throw it at me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so i lied a little bit about what would be in chapter 3, but that's because this is actually only half of it. i just decided to go ahead and post this half instead of waiting any longer while i re-write the other half (which will now become chapter 4 instead). so try not to be _too_ mad at how slowly the slow burn continues here, think of it more like a mini teaser chapter in between the real ones

School was kicking into high gear, and Clarke and Lexa barely had time to speak about anything but school during the week, trading notes from history during lunch and frantically throwing together the Student Council constitutional amendment they were supposed to be spearheading through texts while Lexa rode the bus to and from an away game and Clarke snuck out of the Debate practice they were supposed to be leading together. When the weekend finally rolled around, Lexa remembered to pack extra clothes only because she had to bring her backpack so they could try to puzzle through the biology assignment together. She wasn’t sure where that was meant to fit in around the other science they’d been doing the last couple Saturdays, but Lexa had a feeling Clarke had probably already figured it out.

She was half right. Abby let her in on her way out the door and sent Lexa upstairs with a shout to alert Clarke to her presence, and when Lexa let herself in to the tv room she found Clarke busily working…on rolling a condom onto a banana. Lexa blinked, her mind going all sorts of places. They weren’t really— were they? She swallowed hard and hoped her voice sounded normal.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m _trying_ to get this _fucking thing_ to— oh shit.” Clarke lost her hold on the latex and it rolled back up and popped off and Clarke groaned in disgust and tossed it aside. Lexa had shut the door and come into the room, but was still looking at her with confusion. “The health presentation?” she said, like Lexa was supposed to know what that meant. She didn’t, and shook her head to indicate it as she took a seat on the couch beside Clarke, swinging her backpack onto the coffee table.

Clarke sighed. “At the beginning of the year, Ms. Lattimore asked me to help her do the pre-Homecoming health reminder presentations for all the underclassmen. She said they were more likely to listen to a student, and I agreed. But now suddenly it’s happening tomorrow, and she only this afternoon gave me the packet, and I have to do the condom on a banana thing, and I don’t remember how. And I’ve watched fifteen youtube videos, half of which turned out to just be dumb or gross, and I cannot get it right. And everyone is going to laugh.”

Her voice had risen as she went on, angry and frustrated, and Lexa reached over to touch her shoulder and then wrap an arm around her. “That sucks,” she said, “But it’ll be fine, okay? Can you just tell her you can’t do that part?”

“I already said I would. Sterling was supposed to be doing it but he backed out, and if I bail too she’s going to be so disappointed. She gave me this whole speech about what a good role model I was, and how I was the perfect person to talk about it because everyone looks up to me and it’d be good practice for my medical career and on and on. I can’t let her down now.”

“Okay,” said Lexa, rubbing Clarke’s shoulder and tugging her a little closer. “We’ll figure something out together, okay?”

Clarke sagged into her side-hug. “Thanks, Lexa. I’m glad you could make it tonight. I know you’re swamped too.”

“I wasn’t going to bail on you. Maybe let’s take a break from the bananas and come back to it later? Chill a bit?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Clarke nodded. She sighed, and Lexa stayed quiet, knowing sometimes Clarke needed a little extra time to pull herself out of a bad mood. “Netflix?” Clarke suggested after a few minutes. She laughed a second later. “And you said chill. Netflix and chill. Wait, that—” she turned to look at Lexa. “I have an idea.”

“For what?” Lexa asked, not sure what to make of the sudden shift in gears and moods.

“For the banana thing. What if— I mean—.” Clarke stopped and pressed her lips together, then took a breath and started over. “Can we try you instead of the banana? Maybe the banana’s just not realistic enough.”

“But you have to do it on a banana for the presentation, right?”

This was a flaw in her plan, but Clarke was not about to let it dampen her excitement at having found a new angle to attack her problem from. “Yeah, but maybe if I can see how it works on the real thing I’ll be able to figure out what I’m doing wrong.”

Lexa nodded slowly because that didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but she had already started sporting a semi just in the thirty seconds since Clarke brought it up, so she gave up poking holes in the idea. “Okay.”

“Okay, great. Thanks. Wait, do you know how?”

Lexa shook her head, but shrugged at the same time. “I mean. I know in theory, I’ve never actually done it. So no, I guess. I mean why would I ever need to know? It’s not like I’m going to get to have sex with anyone anytime soon.”

Clarke paused and turned to look sideways at her. “You know you could, right?”

Lexa tried to ignore the sudden heart-pounding rush of something that felt suspiciously like hope. “What do you mean?”

“Like I know easily three girls off the top of my head who would go for you in a second. One hundred percent guaranteed, and that’s without me even thinking about it.”

“That sounds fake, but okay.”

“I’m serious! You’re totally hot and, like--. Fuckable. Whatever word the kids are using these days.” Clarke glanced away and flapped a hand, suddenly awkward.

Lexa chuckled, and shrugged again, looking down at her hands in her lap and definitely not at her friend. “Whatever you say, Clarke.” After a moment, she smiled crookedly. “Anyway, if that’s true I’d better figure this condom thing out, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely,” said Clarke, head bobbing as she nodded. “Let’s figure that out. I know you definitely have to be hard first.” She looked over at Lexa’s lap and raised a brow. There was definitely a bulge in her pants, but the size and shape of it it didn’t look big enough to be a real erection. Clarke was sort of pleased that she’d gotten to the point where she could recognize that. It felt like their experimenting was paying off in actual knowledge. But right now, she needed Lexa hard so she could finish prepping for this seminar.

Lexa lifted a hand, palm out. “I’m almost there.” Clarke’s brow ticked a little higher. “I’ll get the rest of the way! Jeez, so impatient tonight.” Lexa frowned a little but tipped sideways to bump her shoulder against Clarke’s. “Chill, okay? We’ll figure this out so you can get back to your real work.”

Clarke sighed, and patted Lexa’s thigh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk, I’m just stressed.”

“I know, it’s okay. Just give me a minute.”

Lexa grabbed the bulge in her pants with a hand and gave it a squeeze and a rub before reaching into her boxers and taking her cock in her hand, stroking up and down its length. She wasn’t sure why she felt so much less self-conscious about it than she had the last time a week before, when Clarke staring at made her so nervous it took twice as long as usual to get it all the way up. Clarke was staring this time, too, but Lexa knew it was just because she was anxious about getting this figured out so they could get back to homework, and somehow that made it feel okay.

She pumped her shaft slowly at first, grip firm but not too tight, careful since there wasn’t any lubrication yet. The elastic bands of her boxers and her sweats dug into her forearm, but her fist kept them from catching around the head of her dick too as she pulled it up toward her navel. She was starting to grow steadily when all of a sudden Clarke leaned closer and said, voice low, “That’s it, Lexa. Get that dick nice and hard for me.”

“What the fuck?” Lexa’s surprised yelp was half nervous laughter, only sort of covering the incredible shock of heat that had run through her system at the sound. Her dick had gone from firming up to rock hard in eight words, and she turned to stare at Clarke, who was as red-faced as Lexa but was biting her lip on a smug grin.

“I’m helping,” she said, and Lexa laughed and put a hand over her face.

“Oh my god. I should never have told you that saying porn things like that worked.”

“But it’s so useful! Look how much time we just saved!” She gestured at Lexa’s lap, where in her surprise she had jerked her arm back out of her pants and pulled her cock out with it and it now stood up stiff and proud above the waistband of her sweats and boxers.

“Don’t look so smug, it was almost there anyway.”

Clarke lifted a brow. “So you’re saying it wouldn’t have that much effect on you if I said something like…oh, I don’t know. How about,” she pitched her voice a little lower again, imitating porn dialog they’d heard, “It looks so big.”

Lexa groaned, her cock twitching. She wrapped a hand around the shaft to hold it still.

Clarke continued, clearly enjoying teasing her. She pushed her voice even lower, and quieter until it husked out of her throat, somehow breathy at the same time. “It’s so big I don’t think the condom’s going to fit.”

“Oh my god, Clarke! Enough, jesus. What, are you thinking of auditioning? That’ll look great in the yearbook. Clarke Griffin, Most Likely to Succeed, plans to become a porn voice actress.” Lexa figured if she kept talking and teased back, maybe Clarke wouldn’t notice her having to wipe off the head of her dick with her thumb to hide the drips of pre-come that had started to form at her words.

“Wow, just voice actress? Are you saying I have a face for porn radio, Lexa?”

Lexa snorted. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Clarke. Can you just hand me a condom, please?”

Clarke nodded her agreement and dug up the bag full of condoms from the nurse’s office and picked out a handful of packets, different colors for different types and sizes. She let Lexa choose, and Lexa didn’t tell her she was just guessing, too. She ripped one open and tossed the foil onto the couch between them. “Okay, so I think it’s like…” she trailed off as she focused, trying to remember the way she’d been taught. Pinch the tip, roll it down….

It ended up proving more difficult than she’d expected, first trying to figure out which side was supposed to be up or down and finally unrolling it with her fingers to check, which meant having to throw it out. They tried another, but it had lube, which Lexa only realized when she ended up smearing it on her hand by accident and the condom slipped right out of her fingers just as she was getting it around the head of her cock. It took way more tries than she was proud of, but finally she got the hang of it and lifted her arms into the air above her head in triumph as for the second time in a row, a condom stayed in place around her dick as she let go.

Clarke reached over and high-fived her. “Awesome, you’ve got it. Alright, my turn.”

She picked another packet at random out of the bag and tore it open. She peered at it carefully, trying to avoid repeating Lexa’s earlier mistakes, and then reached over to hold it over the head of her dick. She took her time lining it up, pinched the tip, and touched it to her skin, starting to try to roll it down with her fingertips.

They’d both suddenly realized exactly what this exercise actually involved. Somehow even when Lexa was putting them on herself, though she’d noticed and enjoyed the excuse to stroke herself with each roll, she hadn’t been thinking about the fact that Clarke was going to be doing it too. She wasn’t sure how she’d imagined this working, but now Clarke’s fingers were almost on her skin, and her pulse rate had tripled. She seemed to be trying not to touch, fingers staying on the latex, pushing it down. It didn’t work, first because even through the latex Lexa could feel Clarke’s fingers on the swollen head of her penis and it felt amazing, and also because in trying to avoid contact her grip was all wrong and before it had gotten past the head it snapped back on itself and Clarke dropped it in surprise.

Her hands were shaking a little, and she quickly turned to dig through the bag again, grumbling as she pulled out another packet. She lined this one up and started to try again, but couldn’t get all the sides unrolling at the same time this way. “Can I— is it okay if I touch you? Just a little? I’m not sure I can do it otherwise.”

“Y-yeah,” Lexa replied. She wasn’t surprised by the question, but the idea still sent a jolt of excitement and nerves through her that made it a stammer. She knew that as focused as she was there was no way that Clarke hadn’t noticed the little twitch her cock gave at the idea, or the pre-come beading up in her slit, and she chewed on her lip as she watched, trying to keep her breathing steady when it really wasn’t at all. The anticipation was working her up almost as fast as Clarke’s teasing had earlier and she shifted a little on the couch, trying to stave off the feeling. This was homework, she repeated in her mind like a mantra, you’re just doing homework. It’s not exciting, it’s homework.

Clarke’s touch skimmed down her length as she pushed the condom down and Lexa clenched both fists at her hips at the hot trails it felt like she was leaving down her shaft. The condom was on…but only because it was clearly several sizes too big, and Clarke let go with a sigh, pulling it back off and shaking her head in frustration. The next one she grabbed had the opposite problem. She started off alright but couldn’t get it to go around the head, fingers ending up stroking back and forth a few more times over the dark pink tip, now shiny with the wetness she’d been accidentally spreading around as she worked. Finally Clarke wrapped her thumb and forefinger into a circle and tried to push it down that way, which had the effect of just squeezing the head tightly and then pressing just beneath it, because that was as far as she got before Lexa held out a hand to stop her.

“No, nope, stop, that is way too tight.”

“But it’s—!”

“Clarke, it hurts.”

Clarke sighed and let it go, having to tug it off by the top when it remained stuck tight around Lexa’s cockhead. It popped free with a grunt from Lexa. “I’m terrible at this.”

Lexa didn’t reply right away, busy squeezing the edge of the couch cushion hard and then wiping at her cock again, trying to hide the latest pulse of arousal that had risen from all the squeezing and attention despite the momentary discomfort. “You’re doing fine. It’s not easy.”

“It’s supposed to be pretty easy. Like almost idiot-proof. But I’m going to get it. I have to,” Clarke said, and Lexa nodded encouragingly.

“You will.”

Clarke had a determined look on her face as she picked out her next condom more carefully than the last, willing her own nerves to settle so her hands would stop disobeying. She was staring at Lexa’s dick like it was an enemy she was about to conquer, and part of Lexa wanted to reach out to cover herself protectively. (The other part thought it was kind of weirdly hot.) Clarke ripped the packet open with a vicious tug, took a deep breath, and set to work. Lexa could tell by the stubborn set of her jaw that Clarke was having one of her ‘I will do this or die trying’ moments, and she sat back to give her more room as she leaned closer to focus in.

She started strong, but then the condom didn’t want to unroll, sticking to itself. Clarke could’ve thrown it out and gotten another, but she refused, and she refused to be defeated by any other complications either: this time when Lexa’s cock twitched and bobbed as she was trying she just grabbed it and held it still with her off-hand and went back to work.

Lexa stopped breathing. Clarke was so focused on her task she hadn’t even really registered what she’d done, but her hand was wrapped around Lexa’s shaft. Her grip was firm, and warm, and her thumb pressed next to the big vein on the back and suddenly Lexa was in serious trouble. All the small touches had been building up, but she’d thought she had it under control. She’d been turned on and dripping, sure, but that was all. Now any sort of control she might have had was out the window and she was white-knuckling the couch cushion trying not to come. She needed Clarke to stop right away or she wasn’t going to be able to hold back.

“Clarke, I don’t think that’s—”

“Don’t tell me, Lex, I’m figuring it out myself.”

“No, but Clarke—” Lexa’s voice caught as Clarke’s hand shifted, stroking up to help grasp the bottom edge of the condom. Lexa couldn’t believe Clarke couldn’t feel the pounding of her heartbeat throbbing through every inch of her erection, warning her.

“I’ve almost got it.”

“Clarke, you need to—”

“I can do this myself! I’ve got this one, I’ve almost--” Clarke wasn’t really hearing her. Lexa dug her fingers into her palms and tried to think about anything, anything other than Clarke’s hand on her dick, soft palm and strong fingers sliding up and down as she wrestled with the latex with her other hand, pulling it down, rolling it from tip to base. She couldn’t come up with anything else to think about and closing her eyes just made it worse, made it easier to forget that this was just homework. It didn’t feel like homework. It felt like Clarke was stroking her dick, and there was nothing more she could do to stop the hot, heavy pressure coiled at the base of her from exploding up her shaft.

“I’m serious Clarke I’m gonna— oh shit—!” Her cock swelled a little further in Clarke’s fist and began to shoot, jets of come splashing into the condom as Lexa shut her eyes and groaned in both pleasure and embarrassment. The latex was clear and thin and Clarke watched as the creamy fluid filled the tip, Lexa’s abs clenching and flexing with each pulse. It turned out Clarke hadn’t left quite enough space, and it started to balloon a little as Lexa kept coming the buckets-full that Clarke had begun to expect. She whimpered, and Clarke on instinct gave her a friendly little stroke, which might have been soothing like she’d meant it to be except she was still stroking her dick and not her arm or shoulder like usual. So instead Lexa shuddered and her cock twitched, the last little aftershocks spilling out of her head into the rubber until finally her breathing slowed.

Clarke realized she was still holding on, and that maybe that was weird, so she let go and rubbed Lexa’s thigh instead, a slow back and forth meant to help calm her down. “I’m sorry,” she said as Lexa was opening her mouth for what Clarke knew was going to be an apology, “That was my fault, I should’ve listened to you.”

“Yeah,” Lexa breathed out heavily. But she didn’t look mad, just a little sheepish. “It snuck up on me.”

“Yeah, I hadn’t realized how much touching there was involved. Which is dumb, of course there’s touching, that’s the point, right?”

“Yeah.” Lexa took another couple deep breaths, and her flush started to fade. Clarke didn’t seem upset, and she guessed they were both starting to get used to this. Both the whole ‘coming in front of each other’ thing and also how quickly it happened sometimes, especially for Lexa. She was still kind of embarrassed, but less than she’d been last week, and it was a relief. She knew she could trust Clarke with anything, but this was a whole different realm of anythings than they’d been in before, and as much as Lexa tried to remember it was just her best friend and of course Clarke wouldn’t make fun, there was still a part of her that worried. Less about being mocked and more about disappointing her, really. She’d been starting to get self-conscious about her stamina last time, even with Clarke saying it was hot, and had been nervous before she showed up tonight that the feeling would grow and start to ruin this thing they’d been enjoying. But instead she felt better, and Clarke smiled at her and was still rubbing her thigh, and Lexa let herself sink into the couch a little deeper, enjoying the sated feeling of finally coming after a long day.

Her dick was softening slowly, and the condom began to loosen. Clarke noticed first, and gave her thigh a squeeze. “We’d better get that off you before it makes a mess. Can I?”

Lexa nodded. Clarke had seen this part in the videos too, and she carefully pinched it closed and pulled it off. A little come dripped out and down onto her fingertips and Lexa’s skin, but most stayed in the condom where it was supposed to be.

“Hey, good job,” Lexa said, her smile lopsided and a little sleepy. “You got it on right, too. You’ll do great tomorrow, Clarke.” She yawned her name, and Clarke laughed.

“Thanks, Lex.” She started to reach for her shoulder to give it a pat, but realized there was come on her hand and stopped. She looked at her fingers and then, after another moment of hesitation, started to bring them up to her lips. She licked one and, after a thoughtful pause, the other. Lexa was staring when she looked up. Clarke shrugged, cheeks going pink. “I was curious. Research,” she reminded, and Lexa nodded shallowly.

“And?” Lexa hoped she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt, suddenly bracing herself. But Clarke hadn’t made a face or spit it out or anything.

She shrugged. “Kinda salty I think? Hard to tell with so little.”

Lexa just nodded. The answer was a relief, but also _Clarke had just tasted her come_. That one was going to take a little bit to process. She quickly wiped her dick on her boxers and tucked it away, pulling her pants back up in hopes that covering up would keep her from getting hard all over again at the thought. She knew what else might help, and when Clarke came back from throwing out the condom, Lexa had gotten out her textbook and was sitting with it in her lap and a notebook balanced on one knee. Clarke groaned, but collected her books too and flopped down beside her to get to work.

The homework was just as complicated as they’d feared, and while they knew that if the two of them put together were struggling the teacher had probably just accidentally assigned something too hard for the class, that didn’t make them any less determined to get it right. It took all of their focus, which was good, because it meant that after a few minutes Lexa’s cock softened the rest of the way finally and she stopped being hyper-aware of every brush of Clarke’s body against hers and every time she gestured or spoke she wasn’t reminded of Clarke’s tongue licking her come off her fingertips or her hand wrapped around her cock.

Clarke was similarly glad of the distraction. She wasn’t any less wet than she’d been when she sat down, but she managed to ignore it and some of the urgency of her arousal dissipated while they worked through the formulas, and she managed to stop wondering whether Lexa’s come would taste different in larger quantity or straight from the source. Maybe some Saturday night they’d get there in their research, but she wasn’t going to rush it or think too hard about the idea. Not right now, anyway.

A couple hours later, Clarke pitched over to rest her head on Lexa’s shoulder, groaning like a dying whale. “I can’t do this anymore. I need a break.”

“We can’t afford a break, Clarke. You’re fine, power through.”

“Easy for you to say,” Clarke grumbled.

Lexa’s brows drew together. “What does that mean?”

“You got off before we started, you already had your relaxing break.”

For a second Lexa considered that silently, and Clarke thought she might’ve been mad. But Lexa nodded. “I guess that’s fair. Go ahead, then.”

“What?”

“If you want to jerk off, go ahead. I’ll finish problem nine.”

Clarke stared for a second, but couldn’t come up with any reason why not. Besides, all her work tonight had been Health & Human Sexuality and Biology, so it seemed appropriate. She got off the couch to get her phone and earbuds and then flopped back down, sticking them into her ears as she scrolled. Lexa raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m just going to watch a video real quick while I do it, I don’t want to distract you.”

Lexa blinked a few times in rapid succession but nodded, and went back to work. Clarke didn’t see her peeking up from her notebook every few seconds. She couldn’t see the screen, but she saw Clarke slide her hand into her underwear, and watched her shift around on the couch to get more comfortable, propping a foot up on the coffee table and spreading her knees. She tried to concentrate on the homework, ducking her head closer to the page and forcing herself to focus.

Clarke skipped through a few videos before finding one of a man and a woman masturbating side by side. She swirled her finger around her clit and tried not to be comparing the dick on screen to Lexa’s. It was difficult, and stroking fingers back and forth through her lips and feeling how wet she was didn’t make it any easier. Lexa’s was definitely nicer looking, she decided. She pushed a finger into herself and let out a soft huff of breath as it slid in easily already. This break had definitely been the right choice. Now that she’d started she was realizing just how turned on she’d been all evening despite the homework and she was amazed she’d been able to focus as much as she had.

She held her phone against her stomach, propped up in one hand, and on-screen the couple swapped, each of them reaching over to start touching the other instead of themselves. Clarke slid another finger inside herself and begin to thrust them in and out less lazily than before, sneaking a glance over at Lexa. Her friend was chewing on her pen, and Clarke took advantage of the moment to let her eyes wander, trying to make out the shape of her dick in her sweatpants. When she found it, she brushed her thumb over her clit and shivered and when she looked up she found Lexa looking at her. Clarke looked away and pushed her fingers in deeper, spreading them until she felt a stretch and a pulse of wetness around her knuckles.

Clarke tried to focus on the video, but now all she was seeing when she looked at it was her and Lexa, Lexa’s long fingers playing between her legs, Lexa’s dick gushing in Clarke’s hand. She’d almost gotten to feel it earlier, and now she realized why she’d been disappointed by that. It wasn’t that the condom practice session had been cut short, it was that she’d gotten close again but she still hadn’t really gotten to find out what giving a handjob was like. Lexa’s skin had been so hot and smooth and her dick had felt firm and she’d almost been able to feel it pulsing before she came, but she hadn’t been paying enough attention to really appreciate any of it much at the time or to make note of any details, too focused on trying to get the condom on right. She’d held her cock while she came but hadn’t really jerked her off at all. It was all backwards.

Her hips lifted and rolled, pushing toward her own hand, nudging her fingers deeper as she thought about what she had noticed, and what she wanted to notice for next time. The idea of next time set her hand going faster, and Clarke came wondering what it would feel like if it were Lexa’s fingers inside her instead. Or anyone’s, she told herself as soon as her orgasm had subsided and reality set back in. Not just Lexa’s, just any person’s fingers that weren’t hers. Not any, but any person she could theoretically date. Some mystery person she’d date in the future. Whatever. Just, fingers. Long, slender, dexterous fingers.

She pulled her hand out of her underwear and before she could find somewhere to wipe it, Lexa’s hand had shot out and those fingers were wrapped around her wrist, overlapping themselves around the narrow circumference of the joint. Clarke wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Can I?” Lexa asked. She’d tipped forward onto her knees and her other hand, stretched across the couch to catch Clarke’s hand. She was blushing, and explained only by casting a meaningful look towards Clarke’s fingers. Clarke realized they were glistening wet, and suddenly she understood. Her nod was quick.

Lexa leaned forward a little further, and brought Clarke’s hand up to her mouth. She flicked her tongue over the end of Clarke’s middle finger, curious little licks, and then sucked the first knuckle into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around it, lapping up Clarke’s wetness and sucking it off, mouth releasing with a pop. It reminded Clarke of Lexa’s mouth on her nipple, and she shivered.

“And?” she repeated Lexa’s question from earlier when she found her voice again.

“I like it. I’m not sure what it tastes like.” She trailed off, considering, but refocused when Clarke spoke.

“Really?” Clarke was skeptical, brows furrowing at her and lips pressed together, tilted sideways. She knew Lexa wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings, and she was pretty sure it was not supposed to taste very good.

Lexa gave Clarke a look but she knew that saying it again wouldn’t convince her so she didn’t answer with words, instead pulling her hand up to her lips again. She took Clarke’s index finger into her mouth little by little, tongue curling, slowly sucking it clean from base to tip, savoring every drop. She let it go and went back to the middle finger, taking it between her lips sideways, teeth grazing as she made sure to get that last bottom inch or so she had missed the first time. She licked her lips when she sat back, and then picked up her notebook and tossed it into Clarke’s lap, ducking her suddenly red face down into her textbook. Clarke stared, speechless.

“I finished nine,” Lexa said, clearing her throat when her voice came out a little thick and still not quite meeting Clarke's eyes, “See what you think.”

(She’d done it right, of course.)


	4. Chapter 4

The week after that was disappointing. Lexa was being run ragged, constantly either pulling extra shifts at work, getting literally run into the ground by her coach in preparation for playoffs, or slaving away over the big mid-term project in her AP Government class. Clarke was struggling to get her portfolio updated for AP Studio Art without falling behind on her AP Chem labs, especially after she discovered her partner had screwed up the formula and she had to start over from scratch. Plus, Abby was back from her conference and not working her usual Saturday evening shift and so by the time the weekend rolled around they were both tired and grumpy and unusually on-edge about Abby knocking at the wrong moment, so instead of a repeat of the first few weeks or getting to move forward on their research, all they managed was quickly jerking off once side-by-side to some mediocre porn with the volume down too low before they both had to get back to work despite not really being satisfied at all.

The next Saturday started off even worse. Lexa was trying to finish an essay and prepping to leave the next morning for the biggest Model UN competition of the fall, and Clarke needed two more paintings by the Monday morning deadline but she couldn’t seem to find enough inspiration to manage anything she didn’t hate. She finished flipping through the assignment packet hoping one of the options would strike her when it hadn’t the first hundred times and when it didn’t, she picked up her phone.

Clarke:  
I’m bored

Lexa:  
Then paint

Clarke:  
Wow very helpful thanks

Lexa:  
Too bad

Lexa:  
Sorry, I didn’t mean that.

Clarke:  
You ok?

Lexa:  
Fine

Lexa:  
It’s crazy over here, they’re giving me a headache and I can’t get anything done. I’m so behind

Clarke:  
So come over here?

Lexa:  
You’re working, I’ll distract you

Clarke:  
We’ll both do our work, it’ll be fine

Clarke:  
You’ve been working really hard for this, don’t let craziness at home mess up your shot at adding to your trophy shelf

Lexa:  
Ok. I’ll be there in ten

Lexa:  
Thanks Clarke

Lexa:  
And I don’t have a trophy shelf

Clarke:  
Well you should. Where do you keep them??

Lexa:  
There’s a box under my bed

Clarke:  
You’re ridiculous

Lexa:  
I’m driving now goodbye

  
“I can’t believe you keep all your trophies in a box under your bed.”

“Hello to you, too,” said Lexa, stepping in through the front door Clarke had opened. She followed her up the stairs as they bickered about it, Lexa insisting that it wasn’t a big deal and she didn’t have that many anyway and Clarke listing off all the tournaments and competitions and prizes she knew for a fact that Lexa had won.

“You forgot my seventh grade basketball MVP,” Lexa said sarcastically, but it came out sullen, too, and Clarke turned back to look, remembering why she’d invited Lexa over in the first place tonight—not just because she was bored, but because Lexa had sounded stressed in her texts. She looked it, too, Clarke realized now, dark smudges under her eyes and a clench in her teeth. It was always easy to fall into the rhythm of teasing Lexa, but the familiarity of their back-and-forth had distracted Clarke from noticing that Lexa’s heart wasn’t really in it. When they got upstairs the brunette threw her bag on the floor before thumping onto the couch with more force and less grace than usual.

Clarke took a seat next to her, leaning close enough to bump her shoulder into Lexa’s. “You want to tell me about it?”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing, it’s just stupid little stuff.”

She knew sometimes Lexa had to ease gradually into talking so Clarke waited, reaching up to set a hand on the back of her friend’s shoulder. After a minute or two of staring stoicly at the coffee table, Lexa shook her head and reached forward for her backpack, digging around inside for her notebook. “I just really need to get to work.”

Clarke watched Lexa’s profile for a moment, her tight jaw and furrowed brow, but nodded. She gave the other girl’s shoulder a firm squeeze as she pushed up to stand. “Okay. I’ll be in my studio, come get me if you change your mind or decide to take a break or something.”

Lexa’s exhale was almost a snort and she shook her head. “I don’t have time for breaks.” There was very little changing her mind when she got like this, Clarke knew, so she just squeezed again and headed back to her easel.

A while later Clarke had both started and discarded another painting, finally, and was just considering her color palette for a next attempt when she heard the slam of a fist on a table from the other room and the clatter of things rattling from the impact. She was off her stool in a moment. “Lexa?” she asked, rounding the corner back into the room at an almost-jog, “Are you okay?”

Lexa was sitting perched on the edge of the couch, books and papers spread around her ancient laptop on the coffee table. She had her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, fingers pressed so tightly against her forehead Clarke could see the skin going white. She hurried over but approached carefully, sitting down on the couch beside her and reaching a hand out to brush fingers against her arm. When she didn’t flinch away Clarke leaned closer, setting her hand back on her friend’s shoulder where it had been earlier, rubbing soothing circles. “Lexa? What’s the matter? What happened?”

There was a deep huff of breath from behind Lexa’s hands before the girl grumbled, voice thick and sour, “Everything’s ruined.” She gestured at the computer and, now that one hand was off her face, removed the other one too and crossed her arms tightly over her chest instead. She hadn’t been crying but her expression was dark, face set in frustration.

Clarke didn’t stop rubbing her shoulder as she leaned forward to read. The email was from the Model UN tournament coordinators, informing competitors that due to some unforeseen conflicts, Redwood Polytech would no longer be attending, so there would be no representatives of Iceland participating. Clarke groaned.

“Oh my god, did it have the be Iceland? Lex, that sucks!” They’d talked through Lexa’s plans for her resolution plenty of times, figuring out which states to target for her coalition, whose interests aligned or complemented each other, how to make sure they could offer each something they needed in exchange for support. It was brilliant, frankly, and sometimes Clarke had just sat and listened in awe as Lexa’s brain jumped three, four, five moves ahead to anticipate the consequences of each possible option. Somehow Iceland had ended up crucial to the plan, a lynchpin between several essential participants. Without them, the whole thing would need to be reworked. “God, that is the worst luck.”

“I know there must be some way to fix it, but I can’t see it,” Lexa said, and Clarke could hear how upset she was trying not to get, her jaw working side to side. This had been in the works for weeks. “I had all these contingencies ready, but not for _that_. Not for them just _not existing_. I’m going to have to start all over from the beginning and I just— god, I can’t believe I put so much into this and now it’s just worthless.” Her head went back into her hands again.

“Whoa, hey, it’s not worthless! This is salvageable, Lexa, you’ll figure it out. You always figure it out.”

“I can’t, Clarke, I can’t figure out any other way to do it and there’s no time! I’ll have to start all over, and it will never be as good. I really need this Best Delegate, nobody’s ever going to care that this is on my resume or my applications if I don’t win the big ones and then all of these hours were for nothing, I could’ve been working more or studying harder or—”

“Okay, okay, I think it’s time for a break,” Clarke said, wrapping her arm around Lexa, “You’ve had a shitty couple weeks and you’re letting the stress get to you. Come here,” she said, and though Lexa began to protest that she didn’t have time for breaks, especially not now, there was really no fighting Clarke and in a moment she found herself rearranged at the end of the couch, leaning back into Clarke’s chest. Clarke’s arms settled around her.

“You’re never going to figure out how to fix it if you can’t take a breath and a step back,” she said, and Lexa had to concede that that was probably true, but being wrong didn’t make her less exhausted or frustrated so she just grunted a noncommittal reply. “And you will figure it out. We’ll talk through the whole thing again, go back to your notes, see what we missed. Everyone else is going to have to readjust too, just remember that, okay? If they’re not thrown off by this it’s because they never had a plan as complex and smart as yours to begin with.” Lexa snorted, and Clarke gave her stomach at a flick. “I’m serious! You’re the smartest person I know, Lexa, and no last second drop-out is going to take this win away from you. You just need to chill.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that? You know how much I have to get done, Clarke, I can’t just--”

“Yes, you can. You’ll do better work if you relax and stop giving yourself a brain cramp or whatever. But I know how hard it is to turn it off, sometimes.” Clarke’s nerves suddenly ticked up a notch as she had an idea, and she waited another moment to see if Lexa was really going to get angry and insist on going straight back to work before continuing, “Actually, I had a thing I wanted to try this week and I didn’t think we’d have time but I think actually it might be good? It might help with you relaxing.” Clarke’s hands had been clasped around her own forearms but she removed one now and laid it flat against the plane of Lexa’s stomach.

Lexa wasn’t entirely sure what Clarke had in mind, but it did give her pause, because she had a feeling now that she knew at least which general direction Clarke was thinking. Maybe. She hoped? The hand was warm through her thin t-shirt, and rose and fell with her body as Lexa took a deeper breath. “Okaaay?” It was agreement, but tentative, and also a question.

Clarke was glad Lexa couldn’t see her face, lip sucked between her teeth and a blush splashed across her cheekbones. She slid her hand lower, stopping right over the waistband of Lexa’s sweats. She got no objection, and so she slipped her fingertips beneath the band, just brushing lightly across the soft skin of Lexa’s belly but inching slowly lower, implication clear now. “Can I?”

Lexa swallowed hard, and nodded.

Clarke slid her hand down until it met the bulge in Lexa’s boxers. She cupped her hand around it the way she’d seen Lexa do to adjust herself once in a while when she thought no one was looking, and squeezed gently. Lexa couldn’t help feeling guilty about taking a break for this when she had so much work piling up, and so much more now to figure out, but she also felt the blood begin to rush out of her brain and down to her crotch, not even so much at the touch as just the knowledge that it was Clarke’s.

Clarke left her hand there for a moment, just holding her package in her palm, and then found the opening at the fly of her boxers and reached fingers inside. When they brushed skin Lexa knew that if she hadn’t been stressed out of her mind she would’ve been rock hard in a heartbeat and probably about thirty seconds from coming. She was almost glad, though, because this way meant getting to feel the tips of Clarke’s fingers tracing feather-light up and down her shaft as it began to fill. But then she pulled back, and Lexa was just biting down on a noise of disappointment when Clarke’s voice was soft and low and right next to her ear.

“Lift up a little?” Lexa felt hands tug on her pants and realized what she wanted, so she arched up to lift her hips and let Clarke pull her pants and boxers down her thighs. Clarke sat up as they did it, the better to see over Lexa’s shoulder as she reached back around and wrapped her hand around her dick. It was still mostly soft, and Lexa couldn’t help a spike of nerves and embarrassment at how small it looked, the head barely peeking out of Clarke’s fist. It was not a thought that was helping her snap out of her dark mood or get hard, but it was all Lexa could focus on for a moment before Clarke began stroking her thumb across the tip and around the head.

“I’ve been wanting to learn how to do this,” Clarke said, and the touch combined with that low voice brushing across her ear helped Lexa’s attention begin to settle. Clarke pulled up gently, letting Lexa’s length go almost far enough to slide out of her grip before sinking back down, and when her hand was wrapped around the base again, this time more showed above her fingers. Lexa could hear her smile when Clarke said, almost to herself, “There we go.”

She grew more rapidly after that and Clarke watched with undisguised interest as Lexa’s dick transformed in her hand. She kept her strokes light and simple, a slow up and down so she could feel as well as see the growth, the shaft sticking up further and further above her fist and thickening until she had to loosen her grip, fingertips barely meeting on the other side. It was nice not to have to ask yet if she was doing it right, the evidence right there in front of her, simultaneously both harder and softer than she’d expected, velvety skin over stiff flesh. She let go, only long enough to see that it bobbed upright immediately, and then she resumed a slow stroke in a loose grip. Lexa was silent in front of her, and Clarke reached her free hand up to set on her shoulder. “Do you want to tell me what to do, or should I guess?”

It wasn’t a rhetorical question; as much as she would’ve liked them, Clarke didn’t want to put even more pressure on Lexa by making her give directions if she didn’t really want to, not when she was already stressing about everything else. Lexa was silent for a moment, and then gave a little shake of her head, ponytail brushing Clarke’s cheek. “You decide.” After a second she added, “But you can hold it tighter.”

Clarke firmed up her grip right away. “You got it. Just tell me if I do something you don’t like, okay? Or if you have advice, or whatever. I just want to learn to do this right.” But this way she could test out whether her instincts were any good, so that was something.

“You’re doing fine, Clarke.”

“See, I want to earn a more ringing endorsement than fine,” Clarke said, and Lexa exhaled an almost-chuckle. She hadn’t been pulled entirely out of her bad mood just yet, but Clarke had already brought her a long way, converting the tension that’d been silently choking Lexa all week from anger and anxiety to arousal. It wasn’t precisely relaxing, but it was a serious improvement.

Her brain was slowly turning off, too, the tangle of her thoughts being gradually winnowed down to physical sensation and a thought that she knew she shouldn’t be so focused on but couldn’t seem to get past: Clarke was giving her a handjob. The thrill of that idea alone more than made up for the fact that Clarke wasn’t as practiced or efficient at jerking her off as Lexa was herself. It wasn’t as hard or as fast as she would’ve done, the angle a little different, but more than anything it was just surreal, feeling the familiar sensation of a hand wrapped around her dick but suddenly having no control over it. Her hand was different, too, Lexa was realizing, calluses in different spots, palm broader but fingers not as long, the angle of her thumb totally opposite since Clarke was a lefty.

Lexa let her eyes slip closed and just soaked it all in as Clarke continued to slowly pump her cock. Going slow like this was good, it meant she wasn’t already on edge like she would have been otherwise, and despite how achingly hard she was already Lexa wasn’t in any hurry for this to end. She hadn’t had time or privacy to do more than rub one out in the shower as quickly and quietly as she could for more than a week, and last Saturday’s perfunctory movie night hadn’t been much better. Even if Lexa knew she shouldn’t be taking a break, let alone a long one, it just felt really good to lie back and get slowly worked up, the tangled whirl of her brain finally beginning to slow too.

But she also didn’t mind when—after a couple minutes—Clarke began to stroke faster. Lexa let out a little groan through closed lips, and Clarke seemed to take it as approval (which it was) and sped up a little more. Lexa began breathing faster, too, and felt pre-come finally begin to bead up out of her slit. She cracked an eye open, wondering what Clarke would make of it, if she’d be okay with it or want to wipe it off and try not to touch, and then Lexa’s breath promptly caught as a thumb almost immediately stretched up to spread the clear fluid around her head.

“It’s more slippery than I expected,” Clarke said, as Lexa pulsed out even more in response to her touch and her voice and her eager interest, “I kind of thought it’d be super sticky, I don’t know why. I mean it is a little, but not as much.” She ran her palm over the tip this time, collecting and spreading it down Lexa’s shaft, slicking it up for her hand.

It kept coming, twitching up her length and out in not-quite regular intervals to be spread around until her dick was shiny and wet and Clarke’s hand slid easily. Lexa let her eyes close again, tipped her head back onto Clarke’s shoulder and tried to give in to sensation. It was almost peaceful for a minute, and then all of a sudden Clarke’s grip tightened and she started to stroke much faster and harder, making Lexa gasp her name in surprise and reach for her wrist to stop her before the abrupt friction became painful.

“You didn’t seem ready to finish,” Clarke explained, a sulk in her voice.

Lexa blinked and pushed up on a hand to sit up a little instead of leaning back so heavily onto her friend.

“Oh,” she said, “Sorry, I—” hadn’t realized Clarke wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible, and she was kicking herself mentally for not thinking of it. Of course she did, why wouldn’t she? It wasn’t like it felt good for her, too. “You can just be done,” Lexa offered, “It’s okay. I can go finish it myself and we can get back to work.”

This time it was Clarke’s turn to blink, and she quickly drew her hand back, mouth opening and closing again. “Wow,” she said after a moment, forcing a laugh, “I didn’t think I’d be that bad at it. I’m sorry, go ahead. Just.” She gestured vaguely and let her hand flop back to her side, shoulders slumping. “Sorry.”

“What?” Lexa sat up all the way, and twisted around to look at Clarke. “You’re not bad at it?”

“Then why do you want me to stop?”

“I don’t want you to stop?” They both just looked at each other for a moment, brows furrowed, bewildered. Lexa spoke first, after a moment spent trying to rewind and puzzle through how they’d gotten here. “You were disappointed I wasn’t done yet. I thought you wanted it to be over.”

Clarke’s brows lifted slightly in sudden understanding and shook her head. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. I thought I was doing a bad job. Usually it doesn’t take you that long to come even when we’re not doing anything at all, but you didn’t even seem close.”

“Oh, no, that wasn’t because of you, Clarke,” Lexa said, trying to get past her amazement that not coming in thirty seconds flat was suddenly a problem instead of the reverse. “I’ve just got so many things on my mind right now, you know? And it’s been kind of a rough week, and it took me a while to turn my brain off. It’s hard when I’m stressed, it just makes everything go slower.” She reached out to touch Clarke’s knee, the only bit of her in natural reach. “You were doing it right.”

“Really? You’re not just being nice?”

“Really. Would I be trying to convince you not to stop if you weren’t?”

“You might if you thought it’d hurt my feelings otherwise.”

That was totally true, but Lexa rolled her eyes. “I’m not, Clarke. If you don’t want to anymore I understand, but I’d—” She hesitated a moment, swallowed, and did her best to ignore how her face heated up. “I’d really like it if you did.”

Clarke still seemed a little skeptical, and she hesitated a moment, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “Could you help me? Just for a minute, so I can feel how you do it? It’s really not the same as watching and I just really want to figure this out.”

Lexa shrugged and nodded. “If you want, okay.”

That made Clarke seem to relax and brighten back up a little, and she got comfortable against the arm of the couch once more and patted her shoulder. “Okay. Let’s try this again.”

Once Lexa had settled gingerly back against Clarke’s chest again, they both looked back down at her dick. Her erection had faded slightly and begun to droop because of the moment of tense uncertainty and misunderstanding, but as Clarke wrapped her hand around it again it stiffened right back up. Lexa set her hand on top of Clarke’s and tried not to tremble. She started the way Clarke had, slow and steady, dragging her friend’s hand up and down. “This is about as slow as I’d go,” she offered.

She felt Clarke nod, and then her voice was, once again, very close to Lexa’s ear, her breath warm on the back of it. “And how fast can I go without it hurting?”

Lexa shifted her grip on Clarke’s hand a little, loosened their fingers, and began building up speed. In a stroke or two their fists were slapping against her stomach on the downstroke and Lexa’s breathing was coming in quick pants. She stopped, and let go, and her cock seemed to bounce with each beat of her heart. “Okay?” she asked, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt.

“Yeah, I think I can try again now,” Clarke said, and Lexa nodded. Clarke’s fist wrapped around her shaft again, and returned to the slow stroke Lexa had shown her. It really wasn’t much different from what Clarke had been doing herself to begin with, but having Lexa demonstrate and confirm that her instincts were correct had restored her briefly shaken confidence. She continued like this until she felt Lexa began to relax against her once again, and then Clarke suddenly twisted her wrist in an unexpected way and brushed her thumb over the sensitive spot just beneath the head and Lexa gasped. She thought she heard Clarke chuckle, and nudged backwards with an elbow.

“Liar, you didn’t need my help at all.”

“But I wanted it.” Lexa could definitely hear the smile in her voice, and she huffed out a breath like she was aggrieved but at the same time squeezed Clarke’s knee. Clarke squeezed Lexa’s side, the first either of them had remembered her right hand in a while, so focused on the left’s relentless tugging on her cock. But now that they had remembered Clarke got another idea, and began inching that hand up Lexa’s body until it was just below her breasts, thumb laid in the shallow valley between them. Her lips brushed Lexa’s ear as she asked, “Can I?”

Lexa nodded.

She hadn’t expected much—not through the layers of t-shirt and sports bra, especially not while her attention was more and more concentrated down in the stiff length between her legs and Clarke’s grip on it to the exclusion of everything else. But then Clarke’s hand cupped her breast and squeezed, and she was caught off guard by the wave of goosebumps it caused. And they were nothing compared to the feeling of Clarke finding her nipple through the cloth and scraping her fingernail across and around it as it hardened, a spark of shivery pleasure stealing Lexa’s breath and making her cock jump in Clarke’s hand.

Clarke made a little noise beside her ear like she’d just discovered something interesting, and slowed her hand until it was just holding her dick loosely around the base. Lexa couldn’t help letting out a soft whine, hips rocking upwards to try to find some friction. But Clarke held her still, and instead focused her attention on getting her hand up Lexa’s t-shirt. She started the same way, ticklishly light little touches across her nipples that had Lexa twitchy and breathy even before Clarke caught the sensitive peak between her fingertips and tugged just the way Lexa had done to her a couple weeks back. Lexa gasped, “Clarke,” and her hips lifted up off the couch, cock dripping.

“And this is still through your bra,” Clarke reminded, mouth pressed against her ear, voice low and rich. She sounded amused, but in a way that made Lexa flush with heat at least as much as self-consciousness, “Can we take your tops off? I bet it’d feel even better without the layers. I wonder if it’s possible to make someone come just from this? Maybe we should experiment with that.”

“ _Clarke_ ,” Lexa whined her name this time, but her complaint was really only about having her sensitivity called out so explicitly, and when Clarke snuck fingers beneath her bra she sat up and lifted her arms, letting Clarke help tug her tee and sports bra up and off. She wanted to cross her arms over her chest, but she also wanted to arch back into Clarke and push up into her hands.

Her breasts were nowhere near the size of Clarke’s (which she had always secretly been a little jealous of), and her early-season tan-lines lingered, skin sunkissed gold where tanks and jerseys bared her neckline and shoulders, but porcelain pale across her chest except for the hot flush that spread down from the tips of her ears to the tops of her breasts, self-conscious and turned on at the same time. Her dick was throbbing, and continued to even as Clarke’s hand released its grip and slid up to rub Lexa’s belly and the lowest part of her abdomen, fingers trailing upwards. Lexa did arch up then, protesting the loss of contact with her cock and also letting her arms drop away to offer her breasts back up, too, nipples little pink buds pebbled tight by arousal.

“You’re so cut,” Clarke murmured as her fingertips traced the lines of Lexa’s muscles up to her chest, “And so pretty.” She said it quietly enough Lexa wasn’t sure it was meant to be said aloud at all. Any response she might have made other than surprised blushing was quickly forgotten anyway when Clarke dragged fingers up the gentle slopes and began teasing her nipples again, stroking and pulling on the little nubs. They were already rosy from her attention, and she soon began pinching and twisting, at first carefully and then harder when the rougher attention just made Lexa moan. It did feel better skin-to-skin, and every touch felt like it had a direct line to her cock. In short order she was shuddering and squirming as Clarke toyed with her, breathing heavy, and finally reached down to wrap her own hand back around her bobbing erection. Clarke responded by flicking her nipple just hard enough to sting, and Lexa gasped a noise and squeezed the base of her cock tighter at the heavy throb of pleasure. “Let go,” Clarke whispered, “I want to see.”

“I’m close,” Lexa warned, and Clarke hummed a low sound of approval.

“That’s amazing,” she said, and Lexa couldn’t help flushing a little, like it was a compliment. It felt like one, somehow, and somehow thinking of it as praise made her cock twitch too. “I can’t believe it’s just from your nipples, that’s so cool.”

“It’s not _just_ , you’ve been jerking me off for a while, remember?”

Clarke’s chuckle sent a thrill down Lexa’s spine, and the awareness of what she’d just said—and the truth of it—hit her a moment later, another spike of heat in her blood that made her clutch her dick tighter.

“Yeah, I remember,” Clarke said. She was quiet for a thoughtful moment before deciding, “I want to finish you off with my hand, if that’s okay. I want to know what it feels like. But another day I definitely want to find out if you can come just from playing with your boobs.”

“Okay.” As if Lexa was going to disagree with that. She drew her own hand back, setting it on Clarke's knee again, fingers curling into a fist around the fabric of her pants. The immediate danger had passed for now, but she could still feel the weight and pressure building up in her balls and the base of her shaft, a heavy feeling she was more and more eager for Clarke to relieve.

The blonde’s hand wrapped around her cock again and gave a squeeze near the bottom of the shaft. “Is this what I do to stop you?” she asks, and Lexa, grunting, nodded.

Clarke began to stroke her again, hand slipping up and down her dick with ease, still slippery from all the pre-come Lexa had been dripping the whole time Clarke had been playing with her breasts. It made a slick slapping noise whenever Clarke’s fist met her belly, and Lexa shut her eyes and tipped her head back as the tension coiled tighter. Clarke’s hand sped up and Lexa barely held in a whimper, lips pressed together as Clarke pumped her cock with quick, tight strokes, thumb brushing over the sensitive patch just below the head with every pass. It made it feel, impossibly, as if she was still trying to grow even larger and harder.

Her hips thrust up into the circle of Clarke’s fingers, breath stuttering. “Clarke,” she panted, and in reply just got Clarke’s head pressed closer to hers, her breath quick too, and heavy against Lexa’s ear. Somehow even that was hot, and Lexa shut her eyes, brow furrowing as her need built. Clarke’s hand sped even faster, nearly matching the racing thump of Lexa’s heart, up and down at breakneck speed and Lexa couldn’t catch her breath.

“I’m gonna— I’m gonna come,” she warned, and then made a strangled noise as Clarke suddenly tightened her hold, fending off Lexa’s orgasm with a merciless squeeze that sent sparks racing down Lexa’s nerves. She shuddered and moaned, face turned in towards Clarke’s neck. “Oh my god Clarke,” was a shaky exhale that turned into another moan as Clarke began pulling on her cock again, as slowly as when she’d first begun. Lexa had a deathgrip on the knee of her friend’s pants, fist clenched tight as she tried not to writhe and whimper and other embarrassing things.

“I just wanted to see if it really worked,” Clark explained, and her voice was so low and husky Lexa felt her climax begin to boil up again already, “It’s a neat trick.”

Part of Lexa wanted to make a joke or snark at her or scold or something, but she couldn’t find the words. “Please,” she found herself saying instead, voice unsteady, “Faster.”

Clarke shivered against her back—or maybe Lexa shivered against her front—or both—but she complied, firming up her hold and pumping Lexa’s cock through her fist faster, and faster. She removed her other hand from Lexa’s sternum where it had been resting. “I won’t do it again. You can go ahead and come whenever you want,” she said, right in Lexa’s ear, and somehow that was the final straw. Lexa bit down hard on her lip as her eyes rolled shut and her hips stuttered, whole body tensing as her cock swelled in Clarke’s grip.

She kept stroking Lexa’s dick as she came, pointing it so her load splashed up her own stomach, heavy shots of come striping her abs. Clarke watched, fascinated at how it felt, each pulse and throb of the rigid length in her hand propelling out another wad of creamy fluid. She’d been amazed before by how much Lexa came but it seemed like even more now, when Clarke was milking it out of her with quick pumps of her fist, watching shot after shot land on Lexa’s skin. Finally it slowed and she helped squeeze the last few pulses out, come dripping down her hand when eventually there was no force left behind it, and Lexa’s weight sagged limp back against her.

“How was that? Okay?” Clarke asked softly in her ear.

Lexa’s laugh was thick and turned into a yawn, already beginning to crash, stress plus release proving too much for her. “So good, Clarke. Real good.” She nuzzled into Clarke’s neck, and Clarke chuckled at her suddenly sleepy friend. Lexa was always more openly affectionate when dozy, but this was another level. It made Clarke want to wrap around her and cuddle her back, but that thought just made her even more conscious of the sticky warmth between her own thighs and the drag of her hard nipples against Lexa’s bare back. She drew away instead.

“Good, I’m glad.” She started to pull herself up, easing out from behind Lexa, but the other girl caught at her knee.

“Where’re you going?”

“I’m just going to clean up,” Clarke said, getting to her feet, carefully transferring Lexa’s head from her shoulder to a couch pillow. She leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “You nap. I’ll wake you up in fifteen to get back to work.”

Lexa just yawned again, and nodded, and let her eyes close. Clarke licked her hand clean as she went to collect a rag, washing up and then wiping off Lexa’s belly for her while her friend dozed, cleaning her up and helping her back into her t-shirt. Lexa let her, arms easily moved and back arching in a sleepy stretch up toward Clarke’s hands, a soft noise humming out of the back of her throat. Her eyes only opened for a moment while Clarke was gently running the cloth over her cock a final time. “Remind me Morocco,” she mumbled, and then was out like a light.

She seemed so tired that Clarke wanted to just let her sleep, but she knew Lexa would regret not getting more work done so she gave her thirty minutes before waking her with a gentle shake of her shoulder. Groggy Lexa seemed very confused for a minute until Clarke sat down and handed her a glass of water, saying, “I’m going to take you passing right out as a compliment to my handjob skills.”

Lexa only choked a little, swallowing and wiping her mouth on the back of a hand before smiling sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if that was a dream.”

“I’m definitely taking that as a compliment.” Clarke grinned and Lexa laughed.

“You should. And thanks,” she said, “That was— good timing. Trying that now.”

“Good,” said Clarke, “No reason we can’t do our research when it’s most useful, right? It’s just efficient that way.”

“Definitely,” Lexa nodded. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging out her ponytail and combing fingers through before fixing it up in a messy bun. “I guess I’d better get back at it.”

“You said something about Morocco while you were sleeping. Probably a dream, but you asked me to tell you, so.” Clarke shrugged. “I’ve told you.”

“Huh.” Lexa scratched at her forehead and began flipping through her notes on each nation. “I don’t know.”

Clarke gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I know you can do this. I’m going to go paint but let me know if you want to bounce ideas around some more.”

Lexa, head already buried in her notes, just nodded.

Clarke returned to her studio, taking a seat on her stool and trying not to squirm at the press of hard wood and her own thighs against her sex. She shouldn’t be this turned on, she was pretty sure. Enjoying research was one thing, but she hadn’t even been touched, and stroking and staring at her best friend should not have been _that_ hot. She shouldn’t be replaying the sight of her orgasm in her mind, or wondering what noise she'd make if Clarke wrapped her lips around one of her pretty pink nipples and sucked. She’d spent a few minutes furtively googling whether there was such a thing as a kink just for getting people off, to no real avail.

She knew if she gave in and touched herself she’d end up picturing Lexa while she did it; each time she’d let her mind wander and her hips begin to rock against the seat in the last half hour her mind had ended up filled with her thick shaft and her flat abs and the perky curve of her breasts or the sound of her voice just before she came when she'd said _please_. That was bad enough but at least it was accidental, just her subconscious caught up in the excitement of her first handjob, but deliberately letting it happen would be too weird. But her desire hadn’t faded since she’d first left Lexa on the couch to nap. If she was going to make it through the rest of the night she needed to channel it, and with a sigh, she turned back to the blank canvas.

Twenty minutes later, Lexa stuck her head into Clarke’s studio. The canvas was no longer blank and Clarke seemed to still be working steadily, so she only snuck up briefly to give her a quick hug, one arm around her middle out of the way of paintbrushes. “Morocco was actually the key,” she said in Clarke’s ear, “I figured it out. Thank you for calming me down and clearing my head, it made all the difference.” She gave her a squeeze and snuck back out, leaving Clarke smiling at her palette, feeling even more proud of herself than she had before. She let the pride fill her, told herself that's all the warmth she felt was, and, picking out a rich shade of green, she got back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress! Next chapter is Clarke-focused, I promise.


	5. Chapter 5

It was strange not having Lexa in school the next few days. Why this particular Model UN conference ran during the week Clarke didn’t know, but the empty seat at lunch and the silence of her phone had her antsy, wondering how things were working out. She itched to text or call and find out if Lexa’s plan was working, but she knew the rules were strict about contact with non-teammates, and so she sat on her hands. “Withdrawal,” Raven and Octavia joked when she spaced out during Spanish thinking about Lexa making impassioned speeches to rally support and hurrying back and forth between caucuses to nail down negotiations, and she made a face at them but couldn’t deny that it was distracting not having her best friend at her side.

Not that they spent every second together normally, not at all. They only had two classes together, and most of their extracurriculars were different, too, plus Lexa worked as many hours as she could, meaning on the whole they spent far more time apart than together. But there was something about knowing that she couldn’t contact her or get updates from anyone else present that made this separation feel different and Clarke couldn’t deny that she was relieved to finally get the text Tuesday evening asking if she’d come pick Lexa up.

She stood with the last two of her teammates on the curb in front of the gym where the bus had dropped them off, and as Clarke made her way through the loop around the parking lot she watched as Lexa, looking for all the world like some young executive in heels and a narrowly-cut skirt suit, patted a couple other teenagers on the back and doled out high fives as they headed for their cars, every inch the captain and leader. Only once they’d gone did she let herself take what looked like a deep breath and unfasten the button of her jacket, and one more at the neck of her crisp white shirt. Then Clarke’s car was rolling up the drive to stop in front of her. She rolled down the passenger window and leaned over.

“Car service for Delegate Woods?”

Lexa stepped over to stick her head in the window and smile. “That’s Permanent Representative Woods to you, and I ordered a limo.”

“I’m afraid the stretch Hummer is in the shop, this will just have to do.”

Lexa sighed a heavy sigh, and then stopped playing and smiled. “Thanks for coming to get me, Clarke.”

“Of course!” She popped the trunk, and Lexa loaded her duffle and her hanging suitbag in the back before climbing up into the front seat. Once the door was shut Clarke finally couldn’t take the suspense any longer.

“Well??” She turned to Lexa expectantly, both hands open in front of her. “How did it go?”

Lexa made her wait another moment. “It went well, I think.”

“You think? I mean, good, I’m glad it went well.” Clarke wasn’t sure what to make of that, and was torn between wanting to push for details but not wanting to poke at scabs if Lexa had already come to terms with not winning.

“Yeah, I mean…” Lexa bit her lip, but couldn’t quite keep the corners of her mouth from turning up. Of course Clarke spotted it immediately and reached over to poke her in the shoulder.

“What? Lexa I can see you smirking you asshole, just tell me what happened!”

“I won.”

Clarke whooped, reaching over to grab Lexa’s shoulder. “Oh my god that’s awesome! Which award did you win?”

A pause. Lexa’s attempt to hold in her grin failed a little more. “All of them.”

“What? WHAT? Lexa! Get out of the car!”

“What?”

“Alexandra Woods get out of my car right now!”

Lexa opened the door and started to slide back out, confusion lasting until Clarke had jumped out as well and marched around the SUV to wrap her up in a hug so tight it briefly lifted Lexa’s feet off the ground.

“All of them! That’s amazing! Holy shit, I am so proud of you!” Clarke squeezed and Lexa stopped trying to hold back her smile, leaning into her friend’s embrace and letting herself grin. It was only polite to keep a straight face while other competitors were around; she didn’t want to seem like she was gloating or worse, uncool-ly excited. But Clarke’s unbridled joy let her own out too and Lexa beamed into the other girl’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Clarke.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I typed the text a couple times but couldn’t make it not sound douchey.”

“Liar, you just wanted to make me suffer.”

“Yeah, that was definitely it.”

“You’re such a jerk. A brilliant awesome jerk.” Clarke gave her another chest-crushing squeeze as she said it before finally easing back. She kept hold of Lexa’s arm as she did. “You’re coming over, right?”

“Yeah, if that’s cool. I know it’s a school night, but home is so loud and I’ve been sharing a hotel room with four other girls.”

“Ugh, you must be dying. I already did most of my homework and I have independent study tomorrow morning, I can do the rest then. We can do a mini movie night!”

Lexa smiled, wide and even warmer than before and nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

It was as they were both climbing back into the car that they realized that ‘movie night’ had taken on other connotations now, and both of them began to wonder which version the other was expecting, or hoping for. Clarke buckled in and turned the key, pausing with her hand on the gearshift to clarify once she’d gotten her own opinion straight. “Whichever version of movie night you want is cool with me,” she said, and for some reason then kept talking, a little burst of nerves grabbing her, “I mean I know it’s not Saturday, and you’re probably tired, but it’s been a while since we got to relax so just— whichever. I’m up for whichever.”

Lexa just nodded silently, and Clarke pulled the car into drive, determined not to press for an answer or worry too much either way. This was Lexa, she reminded herself, and they’d been fine with their research arrangement for a month. Things weren’t going to suddenly turn weird now just because she mentioned it on a different day of the week. Still, the lack of a clear response made her jittery.

It was a minute or two later as the car turned out of the school grounds that Lexa finally spoke.

“I want to finger you.” She turned bright red as she said it, but she grit her teeth against the desire to immediately follow it up with a bunch of other words and explanations and take-backs. She’d spent the last few days going hard for what she wanted and it had all worked out brilliantly and it felt like time she started transferring a little more of that confidence into this part her life instead of being a flustered, stammer-y disaster all the time, she figured. Or at least she could try right now, with the adrenaline of victory and the high of Clarke’s excitement all still fizzing through her blood, making her feel brave and powerful. Besides, Clarke had made her handjob offer without being weird and lame about it. So she resisted the urge to babble away and just added, with what she thought was still a pretty steady voice, “If you’d want to try that tonight.”

Clarke was caught completely off-guard by every part of that response. She had been half-expecting Lexa to ask if they could just watch a real movie and crash early after what must have been a stressful few days, not come right out with a request like that. Lexa had made a few suggestions here and there but she’d usually let Clarke take the lead and hadn’t ever just said the words so boldly, and her tone--. Clarke tried not to shiver. She sounded so _sure_ and so _calm_.

She’d seen Lexa in ‘commander-mode’ at school and on the field and in meetings plenty of times, but she was never like that when it was just the two of them, not since they’d become friends, and she certainly hadn’t ever carried any of that over into their research. Clarke knew winning those awards was a big deal, she could see the confidence and pride in every inch of Lexa’s posture, but she’d never expected to find it so h—. She stopped herself before she thought the word, but she couldn’t keep from pressing her thighs together.

“Yeah,” she said, glad that her voice didn’t seem to sound like a shaky croak even if that’s how it felt, “Yeah, for sure. Let’s do that.”

“Okay. Cool.”

They both nodded in silence for the next block and remained quiet as Clarke steered the car through dark streets toward her house. She wondered if Lexa was feeling the same tension, like putting the plan out there had made the air between them thick and heavy with nerves and anticipation. This wasn’t any different from anything else they’d tried, except that they’d never had to sit for ten minutes just thinking about how they were about to do it, before. It had always been instant from idea to execution, and Clarke was wishing it had been the same this time.

When Lexa reached over and turned on the radio it was a relief, except that Clarke’s eyes caught on her hand as she did it, fingers lightly poking buttons and manipulating the dial, long and slender and about to be inside her. She bit her lip and turned back to the road as Lexa began drumming on her knee in time with the music. It wasn’t that exciting. She’d had her own fingers in there plenty of times, so if it was different it’d probably be a bad different because Lexa wouldn’t know how to do it the way she did. Somehow the thought didn’t calm Clarke down.

“So reworking everything worked even without Iceland?” she finally asked, and even though the answer was obvious based on Lexa’s victory, they were both relieved when it gave her a springboard to launch into a long explanation of the conference’s play by play. It proved an excellent distraction until they were climbing the stairs to Clarke’s room, and she found she couldn’t stop staring at Lexa’s ass in her tight pencil skirt ahead of her, or the way her heels made the lean muscles of her calves look even longer.

“I should probably change,” Lexa said as she dropped her dufflebag on the coffee table and stepped out of her heels with a little sigh, “I’ve been in this suit since six am.”

“Go for it,” Clarke said, waving a hand, “I’ll be right back.”

She’d remembered that there was champagne in the wine cellar in the basement, and she knew her mom would never notice if a single bottle went missing. Surprising Lexa with it seemed like a great way to celebrate her achievement, and if it helped settle her own weird bout of jumpiness that was a bonus. She still wasn’t sure why she was so on edge. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to try it; she definitely did. It was a good thing to learn, for both of them, and she trusted Lexa completely and wasn’t self-conscious about letting her touch her. But something had her stomach doing flips and she wanted to make sure to get rid of it before Lexa noticed and backed out because she thought Clarke wasn’t really up for it. It would be such a Lexa thing to do.

With two glasses and a bottle Clarke quickly headed back upstairs, just in time to see Lexa stripped down to the tiny, tight little shorts she wore under skirt suits. Clarke had seen an awful lot of Lexa recently, but she still felt like she ought to turn back and pretend she hadn’t seen the perfect curve of her ass hugged by taut black fabric and the long bare expanse of her back, tan except for the pale outline of sports bras and tank tops like the one she was just pulling over her head now. It seemed safer to enter now that she had a top on, so Clarke started in again, which meant she arrived just as Lexa was peeling those shorts down. If Clarke had thought her ass looked good before, it looked even better bare, which wasn’t a thought Clarke had ever really had about an ass before.

She shook herself and called out just a little too loud, “Hurry up and get some pants on so we can toast you!” as she crossed the room, looking down at the bottle of champagne to fiddle with the wire around the cork as she walked past Lexa.

If she was startled at Clarke’s return while she had her pants down Lexa didn’t show it, quickly swapping to normal boxers and pulling on a pair of lacrosse shorts, not bothering to pull them up high enough to completely hide the green fabric and soft grey band of her underwear. She also wasn’t wearing a bra beneath her loose racerback tank. It was such a complete 180 from the hyperprofessional navy suit and immaculate white dress shirt she’d been wearing a few minutes ago, but somehow she made both look equally natural. Clarke was very glad she was not the one of them with a dick because she had a suspicion that if she were she might have the most inappropriate boner right now.

She focused on the champagne, determined to get herself under control. She was just anxious about their research plan and it was sending her brain onto wild tangents, she decided. Anxious because last time Lexa had tried to touch her they’d struggled to make it work and she really didn’t want to crush her friend’s triumphant good mood with awkward fumbling. That was it.

She popped the cork with a “Woooo!” and quickly poured two glasses, handing one to Lexa and raising hers. “To you kicking everyone’s ass just like I knew you would.”

Lexa laughed, but let her glass clink against Clarke’s and drank. She’d only had champagne once before, sneaking some at a classmate’s New Year’s party, but this was much better than she remembered. She took another sip, and then held her cup for Clarke to refill. This time she lifted hers first. “To you helping me figure out that whole stupid plan and keep it together when I was freaking out,” she said, “Cheers.”

They both drank, and then Clarke laughed. “Did we kind of just toast to a handjob a little bit?”

Lexa laughed, and flushed, and shrugged. “Maybe a little. Whatever. It was really good and it helped. Cheers to your handjobs.”

Clarke went pink too, but they both drank, and then took the bottle around to flop onto the couch. Clarke turned on the tv, and started to scroll through the guide to see what their porn options were. Lexa didn’t really care; she was planning to be pretty focused on Clarke and anyway she’d been stuck sharing a room for three days. If anything she needed something gross and boring on in the background to make sure she didn’t screw up and get derailed by coming in her pants right away. That actually felt like a pretty real danger no matter what was on tv, and after a second she downed the rest of her glass of champagne.

“You pick whatever, I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

Clarke just nodded, and Lexa climbed over the back of the couch to head down the brief hall. As soon as she’d locked the door she tugged her shorts and boxers down beneath her balls and started stroking. If she was going to make it through this and do it right, she needed to be focused, and there was no way she’d be able to hold back after three days of neglect, especially not while also fingering a girl for the first time. No, the only way to not ruin it thirty seconds in was to blow her load before she started.

She grabbed a big wad of toilet paper and leaned back against the cool tile of the wall, closing her eyes. Her dick had taken about two strokes to get hard, and it was easy to let her mind fixate on what she was about to do. She was going to put her fingers inside a girl. In her pussy. In _Clarke’s_ pussy and she was going to make Clarke come around her fingers. Maybe more than once. Maybe that was getting arrogant and ahead of herself but it made her dick throb and her balls churn to imagine. Clarke slick and wet and hot around her fingers, moaning as she got all shivery and high-pitched. Clarke flushed and breathing hard, panting her name, telling her how good she was making her feel. Lexa held in a groan as she came hard into the tissue in her hand.

She was pretty sure she could’ve gone again right away, and she seriously considered grabbing a clean handful of paper and rubbing out one more. But Clarke was waiting and she didn’t want to make her suspicious or give her too much time to dwell on things. She knew Clarke hated being left too long between planning and execution, and would just start coming up with questions and problems out of restlessness and boredom, and besides she needed to scrub her nails. She spent a few minutes doing that before finally heading back out, picking up the refilled champagne glass Clarke had left for her. She took a sip and bumped her shoulder into her friend’s.

“What’d you pick?”

“I found some girl-on-girl. It’s pretty fake, but it’ll make better background than the bondage stuff on the other channel, unless you’ve got some secret kinks you’d like to reveal.” Lexa laughed, and Clarke smiled, and they both took another sip of champagne. Lexa was still swallowing hers when Clarke asked, “Okay, how do you want to do this?”

“If you’re on your back and I’m on my side we can both fit and I’ll just sort of… slide down a little so I can see?”

“Do you need to see?”

“I’d like to, if that’s okay? It’ll be easier but I guess I don’t have to? I mean if it makes you uncomfortable I can definitely--.”

“No, it’s fine. I just hadn’t thought about it. Just—.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know we were going to do this so I didn’t wax.”

“That’s fine. I don’t care about that.”

“I mean, it’s neat, it’s not like— a jungle or something, but—”

“Seriously. Clarke, it’s just me.”

“Yeah but you’re all trimmed.”

Lexa flushed and shrugged. “I read it makes it look bigger.”

“Seriously?” Clarke’s eyes had gone wide and she was biting her lip trying not to grin. Lexa nodded.

“Yeah. I know, it’s dumb.”

“Oh my god, you are such a nerd.”

Lexa rolled her eyes, still red-faced, and nudged her with an elbow. “You feel better now, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good. Do you still want to, then?”

Clarke nodded, and knocked back the rest of her champagne before tossing a couple pillows out of the way and lying back. She patted the spot beside her and Lexa arranged herself into it. “But can we start with something else first?”

Lexa looked a little puzzled at the vague request but nodded. “Of course, whatever you want.”

“Maybe you could touch my chest again? That helped last time.”

“Sure,” Lexa replied without the slightest hesitation. As if she’d pass up a chance at Clarke’s boobs. She reached up immediately to palm one, squeezing the soft round of it through her t-shirt and searching out her nipple through the fabric to brush back and forth over it. “Do you want me to stay over the shirt?” she asked.

Clarke shook her head. She knew Lexa had picked up on her nerves and she appreciated her checking, but this at least she was sure about after how good it had felt the last time. None of her efforts to replicate it on her own had been successful, and she was more eager than she liked to admit for Lexa to do it again. She sat up a little and tugged her t-shirt off, reaching behind herself to unclasp her bra and let it drop without waiting for Lexa to ask.

Which was probably good, because Lexa was busy gaping. She managed to shut her jaw after a second, almost in time for Clarke not to notice, but she couldn’t disguise her staring, gazing at Clarke’s chest like it was a chorus of angels appeared before her or a cavern full of treasure or some other magnificent, life-changing miracle.

It took another moment and a clearing of Clarke’s throat as she leaned back to lie down again to jolt Lexa out of her big-eyed wonder, and then she tipped forward to bring hand and mouth to her chest with so much careful eagerness that Clarke wanted to wrap both arms around her and squeeze her tight. Instead she moaned softly as Lexa swirled her tongue around one nipple and plucked at the other, teasing and tugging until she was flushed and gasping.

She kneaded and stroked, sucked kisses around the generous curves of her breasts, bit delicately on the rosy tips, and lapped away the sting again. She was so good Clarke couldn’t help but wonder if she had somehow been practicing; she wouldn’t have entirely put it past Lexa, but she also couldn’t manage to get the words out knowing that conversation would stop her friend’s mouth from what it was doing.

But as much as Lexa could have happily spent hours doing just this, she didn’t forget what their ultimate purpose of the evening was, and after a while (a good long while, but still a tiny fraction of how long she might have spent if asked), she set a hand low on Clarke’s stomach and rubbed lightly, running her fingertips along the waistband of her shorts until she reached the button. She lifted her head enough to let a nipple pop free from her lips, breath blowing cool across heated skin as she asked. “Can we take these off?”

Clarke shivered and nodded. She started to reach down but Lexa unfastened them for her, undoing the button and tugging down the zipper, still without really removing her head from Clarke’s chest, nuzzling at the under curve of one breast as she did it. Clarke lifted up and shimmied her hips and Lexa a pulled them down past her knees, far enough to be kicked off. Clarke’s underwear was plain purple cotton, and slowly, slowly enough to be easily stopped if Clarke changed her mind, Lexa slid her hand over the front of them to cup her sex and squeeze gently. She stroked the backs of her knuckles between Clarke’s thighs and circled them over the general area of her clit before asking, “Can I go under?”

Again, Clarke nodded, though Lexa thought she heard her breath catch a little. But it might have just been her own, because she was pretty sure she accidentally forgot to inhale as she slid her hand down into Clarke’s panties, through soft curls to hot skin. She just barely brushed her fingers against it but still felt like a tiny shock ran through her system, and Lexa was very glad she’d decided to jerk off before they began.

She slid her hand down further, careful to keep her touch light, just exploring, gently taking stock and trying to orient herself. She ran fingertips along the seam of Clarke’s lips, warm and soft and slick, and couldn’t help the little note of surprise in her voice when she asked, “Are you wet?”

Clarke blushed, and shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Can we take your underwear off? I really think I’ll be better at it if I can see.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Clarke said. After all, Lexa had basically stripped for her on Saturday and it wasn’t like they hadn’t been watching each other jerk off before that. Lexa had already seen everything there was to see.

She definitely would have come right then, Lexa was sure, as Clarke pushed her panties off and spread her legs to give her room to work. She’d seen her before when she was touching herself but never as close up as now, as she shifted down the couch to prop her head up on her fist beside Clarke’s hip. She was so pink, flushed and delicate and pretty, and even despite having taken the edge off not ten minutes earlier Lexa felt her cock swell and stiffen just looking.

But she could do more than just look this time, she reminded herself, and she lifted a hand to stroke Clarke’s thigh, smoothing her palm over taut muscle and sliding up and in from soft skin to softer still. Again she trailed just the tips of her fingers over Clarke’s lips, tracing the outlines of her body from bottom to top. She stroked them gently apart to peek between, finding her clit in its hood. She stroked beside it, around in concentric circles drawing nearer and nearer but not quite touching. When she grazed across it as lightly as she possibly could she looked up to Clarke.

“Too soon?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “But only a little.”

“Okay.” Lexa looked back, but then paused, and turned up to Clarke again. If she was going to be bold tonight, why not just be bold. Go big or go home, Just Do It, a million other slogans and peptalks all ran through her head and so she just blurted it out and asked, “Can I use my mouth?”

She could feel Clarke tense and see the way she froze for a moment, clearly taken by surprise. Lexa was pretty sure that gave her the answer, but waited patiently as Clarke got her thoughts together. “I don’t think I’m ready for that,” she admitted, apology in her tone and in the way she bit her lip, looking worried that she’d disappointed, “Sorry. It’s just a little fast, you know? Maybe next time?”

Lexa rubbed her thigh soothingly and shook her head. “It’s cool, Clarke. I just—.” _Really want to taste you again. Really want to make you feel good. Think it would be really hot._ Lexa couldn't find words to explain it in a way that didn’t sound like she had the hots for her friend so she just shrugged and made sure to smile reassuringly. “Figured I might as well ask while I’m here. I should probably just concentrate on learning one thing at a time, huh?” She let her smile tip crooked, self-deprecating.

“Yeah, stop trying to be such an overachiever,” Clarke joked, and her smile looked more relaxed again. Lexa grinned up at her, and Clarke reached down to give her ponytail a fond little tug. Lexa pretended she was going to take a bite out of her thigh, chomping her teeth just above her skin, and then put her head back on her fist and went back to staring hungrily between Clarke’s legs.

She kept it in check, again just ghosting her fingers over her skin, teasing little brushes and feather-light contact until Clarke shifted restlessly. Firmer touches followed, stroking her folds and around her clit, laying fingers on either side and massaging until she continued to open up for her. Lexa parted her lips with a finger and stroked between them, back and forth as wetness collected on her fingertips.

She spread it around, licking her own lips but not pushing the issue by bringing her fingers up to be sucked clean even though she wanted to. She slicked up the skin around her clit instead, continuing to circle teasingly though her attention couldn't help but stray lower. On each lap around she detoured to dip just the very tip of her finger into Clarke’s slit, stroking slick skin and watching as it grew slicker. Clarke had begun breathing faster again.

“You can put one in,” Clarke said after another minute or two of Lexa circling the tight ring of her opening without pushing further. Her voice was a little husky and Lexa looked up and met her eyes, bright above flushed cheeks. She gave an encouraging nod.

Lexa pushed her index finger in slowly, a little at a time, and her breath caught as it sunk into tight, wet heat. She could feel Clarke’s walls, not as smooth as she’d expected and squeezing more snugly, and she bit her lip to hold in a little moan at the sensation, let alone at the knowledge that she had her finger inside Clarke Griffin. “You’re so hot,” she marveled, “And _tight_. I didn’t think it’d be that tight.”

“I feel like I should be offended by that.”

“No! I don’t mean that in a slutty way I just mean— in general. I didn’t imagine it—.”

“I know, I was teasing. You should move it in and out.”

“It won’t hurt? You’re so tight.”

“Not if you’re gentle. I’ll relax a little once you start and then you can put in another.”

“There’s no way another would fit.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I know, I’ve seen you do it, it’s just—. And you’re _so wet_.”

“You did a good job.”

“I really did that?”

“No, Lexa, it was the other person who’s been touching me tonight,” Clarke said, letting the sarcasm slip in half automatically and half hoping it would distract Lexa from talking about just how turned on Clarke was, because she really wanted to be able to ignore the niggling voice that said it wasn’t normal for best friends to make each other this wet.

“Wow.”

Lexa said it all with such awe that despite her self-consciousness Clarke wanted to laugh, and also wanted to sit up and kiss her. (On the forehead. Yes. Definitely just the forehead.) She did the next best thing, knowing that despite her displays of confidence tonight, Lexa being Lexa was still bound to be at least a little uncertain about her performance, especially after the last time. “You’re doing great, Lex. Everything you’ve been doing feels really good.” And honestly, she deserved the praise. Clarke wasn’t sure whether it was the sudden confidence or partly her own weird mood or what, but everything Lexa was doing sent sparks racing along her nerves and made the hot core of her clench in pleasure and in eager anticipation of more.

“Good. I’m glad. Just tell me if it doesn’t? Or if I can do it better?”

“I promise I will.”

Clarke laid her head back on the couch and tried her best to relax. It was difficult, not because what Lexa was doing didn’t feel good but because she couldn’t shake the awareness that it was Lexa doing it. For some reason knowing that made her wetter but that just kept her strung tight and anxious, because it shouldn’t have that effect, and she continued wrestling with that in her head until Lexa drew her finger out and pushed it back in once and then again, setting a gentle rhythm.

It was only one finger but it felt so different from her own, longer and narrower and entering from a different angle, with different speed and pressure. It felt like it was touching new places inside her, and Clarke couldn’t quite stop herself from lifting her hips up toward it. She pumped her finger in and out only a few more times before Clarke asked, “Add another, please.”

Lexa, still skeptical, obliged her very carefully, pressing her second finger tightly to the first as she slid them back in. She groaned a little at how Clarke stretched to accommodate her, and felt her cock pulse at the groan Clarke herself let out as they slid in to the hilt. Lexa pressed her forehead to Clarke’s thigh, a little overcome, and tried to catch her breath, but she kept looking up at her fingers inside her best friend’s dripping cunt. After a minute Clarke’s hips rolled restlessly and she said, “Lex, you have to move them.”

“Sorry,” Lexa replied quickly, and tugged her fingers back out and pushed them back in maybe a little more abruptly than she should have, because Clarke made a surprised noise. “Sorry,” Lexa began to say again but Clarke shook her head quickly.

“No, no, do that again. Like that.”

Lexa began to move her fingers as requested, quicker and harder than she had before, and once she got a feel for the rhythm she reached up with her thumb and brushed Clarke’s clit. She had planned to ask if that was okay now, but found she didn’t need to as Clarke inhaled sharply as she did it and immediately nodded rapidly. “Yes, Lex, just like that.”

It was quickly becoming everything Lexa had imagined when jerking off earlier, and she reached down to give the base of her erection a warning squeeze. She’d been doing her best to ignore it and was determined to continue, mesmerized by watching her fingers plunge in and out of Clarke’s flushed, glistening depths.

“You’re so pretty,” she found herself murmuring absently into Clarke’s thigh, “I didn’t realize how pretty they were up close. Or maybe just yours.”

She left her head resting there so she could bring her other hand over, the better to stroke Clarke’s clit in tight little circles without breaking the rhythm of the two fingers pumping in and out of her. Clarke’s breath was quick and loud and she made the most amazing whimpering noise as Lexa’s fingertips rubbed across the stiff little bud, and her voice was thick and husky as her praise came, faster and less coherent.

“ _God_ , Lexa!” she exclaimed the first time she tried scissoring her two fingers inside her, and “Yes, _fuck_ , just like that!” when she she made brisk figure eights around her clit, and “Oh my god where did you— right there, _yes_! Faster!” as she angled her fingers upwards a little.

They seemed to catch on something and, curious if this was what the g-spot was supposed to feel like, Lexa tried to stroke past it again even as she complied with Clarke’s request and began fucking her fingers into her more quickly. She didn’t feel it the next time, just the same slick walls, beginning to shift their grip around her, but then a moment later the pads of her fingers bumped over that spot again and Clarke gasped again, too.

“ _Yes_! Oh _fuck_! _Lexa!_ ” Her chest was heaving desperately and Lexa did it again and then once more and Clarke moaned out her name as her back bent and her walls clenched and fluttered around her fingers. Lexa held them still deep inside her but kept touching her clit, watching in awe once more as Clarke shivered and shuddered and panted, hips rocking toward her hands.

Finally she dropped back, boneless and sweating, and twitched away from Lexa’s touch but otherwise lay still, catching her breath. Lexa held still too at first, but after a moment carefully drew her fingers out, eliciting another low groan from Clarke. She licked them clean as she watched the pink flush gradually fade from her chest and cheeks and her legs flop back together, thighs pressed tight for a moment. She brushed hair off her forehead and took her time, just barely propping enough to see Lexa through the valley between her breasts.

She was looking up at Clarke from beneath her lashes, lip bit between her teeth, brows raised hopefully.

“That was _amazing_.”

Lexa’s grin lit up the room before she ducked down to hide it against Clarke’s hip and behind her hands. “Good,” she said, the word muffled but her pride obvious.

“Seriously, Lex. _Amazing_. Are you sure you’ve never done that before?”

“I did some research,” she admitted, and didn’t notice the way Clarke stiffened against her before she added, “On the internet.”

“Oh, right. Right. Jesus. That was—.” She shook her head, “I can’t believe you can learn that on the internet. I don’t think I can even walk to bed to pass out that was so good. Your fingers are so long, they’re perfect. God. Wow.”

Her babbling had Lexa blushing and unsure how else to express the warmth bursting out of her chest she crawled back up the couch to wrap her arm around Clarke and squeeze her in a hug. “Thanks for letting me try that.”

“You can practice on me any time you want,” Clarke laughed, shaking her head, “I thought it’d be the same as when I do it myself. Fingers are fingers. But it was really not the same at all.” She let out another soft groan and turned her head to cuddle into Lexa’s shoulder, too wrung out and tingly and happy to still care if any of this was normal or not. “Let's go to bed. Carry me?” she asked, half-joking.

Lexa laughed, but hauled herself upright, tucking her erection into the double waistband of her shorts and boxers and holding Clarke well up above it as she picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She tossed her a little unceremoniously onto the bed and laughed at the surprised noise she made as she bounced. Once she was under the covers Lexa crawled in after her.

She was careful to keep to her side of the bed, worried about her hair-trigger cock even with it pinned up to her belly. She'd somehow miraculously managed to keep things under control long enough to get Clarke off and was immensely proud of that, and now all she had to do was wait for Clarke to fall asleep so she could slip out of bed to the bathroom again. It'd take about 0.2 seconds of imagining the hot clench of Clarke's pussy around her dick instead of her fingers and she'd be gone, she knew. She almost was just thinking about thinking about it, and reached down to grab hold and force her orgasm back again.

Clarke didn’t seem to notice, already letting drowsy eyes close as she pulled the blankets up to her chin, and despite her predicament Lexa couldn't help but relax and smile at her friend's sleepy face, hair tumbling down into it as she sighed contentedly. She was thrilled to have helped get her there. Clarke yawned, and then kissed her fingers and leaned over to pat blindly at her friend’s face or thereabouts, and Lexa chuckled.

“Good night, Lexa. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, Clarke.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was kind of rushed because I really wanted to get it up tonight before the finale. I'll probably continue to do some editing after it's posted, but feel free to let me know if you find any bad typos or like, paragraphs that end mid-sentence or anything.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after a year of mostly patient and supportive waiting, i give you this shitty half-finished excuse for a chapter. i hope it's better than nothing

Lexa woke to a dull but persistent ache between her legs. It had been happening more often lately, as if fooling around with Clarke each weekend had kicked her imagination into overdrive, or opened the floodgates or some other, even dirtier metaphor. Too often she woke to the buzzing of her alarm and the pounding of her pulse in her cock, straining against her shorts. Even worse was when she woke soft and sticky instead, still breathing heavily from the exertions of dreams she couldn’t quite remember but could easily guess at given the damp mess splattered across her belly. This morning there had been no alarm, but it took a moment for that to sink in as she reached a hand down to scratch at her stomach and try to adjust her boxers where they’d gotten twisted and ridden up one leg and were putting pressure she really didn’t need on her balls. She was just about to dip fingers through the fly and try to make some discreet adjustments so she could sneak to the bathroom without anyone noticing her erection when a soft exhale beside her made her freeze.

For a moment she held completely still, every muscle clenched tight in alarm. And then suddenly she remembered where she was and how she’d gotten there and the tension rushed back out in a wave of relief. In its place she felt a renewed flush of pride at the memory of Clarke’s breathless moans, her glowy smile, the boneless weight of her as Lexa had carried her to bed, the fond flop of her hand against Lexa’s face as they said goodnight. She’d been naked—Lexa remembered that part, too, especially as Clarke yawned beside her again and this time rolled closer, bare skin warm where it brushed her elbow. And then where it pressed all along her side as Clarke wriggled closer to bump her face against Lexa’s shoulder.

“G’morning,” she mumbled.

“Morning,” Lexa croaked back. She cracked her eyes open to squint at the top of Clarke’s head and then opened them wide, blinking the haze of sleep away to get a good long look at the expanse of pale skin on display. The sheets had slipped down, baring the lean muscle of Clarke’s upper arm and the heavy swell of her breast and the dark pink edge of the nipple Lexa could now feel brushing against her ribs through the thin material of her tank top. Goosebumps prickled up her side where they touched, and she couldn’t stop a shiver. She did manage to bite back a groan as the motion jostled her and set her dick bouncing, reminding her both how swollen it was and how close Clarke was to it. 

Lexa felt guilty for a moment, like maybe her mind wandering like this meant she was letting sex take over their friendship, but how was she supposed to not think about it when Clarke was naked pressed this close to her morning wood? They’d woken up next to each other plenty of times over the years and it had been totally normal and friendly. In fact, she reassured herself, it had even happened since they started their research. They were still perfectly capable of friendly snuggling, this was just different.

The thought caused her to loop through memories of why it was different all over again, from the soft press of Clarke’s breasts against her face, the feel of Clarke clenching around her fingers, the glistening wetness coating them, the way Clarke had said her name just before Lexa made her come, the rush of confidence and power as she’d watched Clarke arch and shudder through an orgasm she, Lexa Woods, had caused. The warmth that spread through her had nothing to do with the blankets or even the heat of the body at her side, and Lexa didn’t bother to bite her lip, letting a grin—just for a moment—flare up at the ceiling in joy and pride. 

Clarke wriggled a little closer, and her hand stroked absently across Lexa’s stomach. It sent a spike of adrenaline through her system but this time Lexa didn’t let herself give in to that initial fear. She stayed put, and rather than pull away freed her arm to wrap around Clarke in return, rubbing tentatively at the back of her shoulder, marveling at the softness of the skin beneath her fingers and the tendrils of hair that brushed her wrist.

“Sleep well?” Lexa asked. She kept her voice low, in no hurry to break the dozy quiet of their morning just yet.

Clarke mmmmed in reply and her nod rubbed her cheek against Lexa’s shoulder. A yawn big enough to end in a whine followed, and then she blinked her eyes open, drawing back as she came awake. She propped up on her side, rubbing at her eyes with one hand until she could get them open far enough to fix Lexa with a serious look. 

Coupled with the lip briefly gnawed between her teeth, on anyone else besides Clarke that expression would have been cause for concern, and there was a second where Lexa felt her good mood start to slip. What if Clarke didn’t feel as good about last night as she did? But it turned out that having sex hadn’t impacted Lexa’s ability to read her best friend’s face. This might look a lot like regret on first glance, but a closer inspection suggested self-consciousness was more likely. Lexa took a breath, and instead of overreacting and assuming Clarke had changed her mind and trying to flee, Lexa just waited.

After a minute Clarke worked her way around to finding her words. Not that they were particularly impressive words, but they never were when it came to Clarke and her feelings.

“We’re okay, right?”

Asking it like that seemed to imply that Clarke was concerned for Lexa rather than harboring some doubts about herself, which eased Lexa’s mind a little further. Still, she hedged, playing it safe. “If you’re okay, I’m okay.”

Clarke nodded slowly. “Well, I’m okay if you’re okay.”

A beat passed, and then they both began to smile at once. 

“That doesn’t work, Clarke. You’ve trapped us in a paradox.”

“Hey, you’re the one who started this. I was just following your lead.”

“There’s the problem. Following has never been your strong suit.”

“Which is a shame,” Clarke said dryly but without sarcasm: “Since leading is definitely yours.”

Lexa’s smile was warm. “It’s not a shame. We lead well together.”

“Just wait til we take over the world.” Clarke’s smile was quick and wide to show all her teeth, but she let the joking go to touch Lexa’s arm, tone dipping back into serious. “But really, you’re okay? No regrets?”

Lexa shook her head. “No. Are you regretting it?”

Clarke’s head shook even more quickly. “No, not at all. It was amazing. I just thought I should check before….”

“Before what?”

“Before I say thank you.”

Lexa’s brows tugged together. “You don’t need to say thank you, Clarke. But I think you already did last night when you were falling asleep anyway.”

Clarke laughed, and rolled back near again, hooking a foot over Lexa’s shin and setting a hand on her stomach. “I didn’t mean with words.”

“Oh!” Lexa tried not to let the spike of excitement sound in her voice, but wasn’t totally successful. She was sure Clarke could hear it, as if she even needed to when she was perfectly placed to feel stomach muscles jump beneath her touch, and see the bulge in the blanket over Lexa’s crotch twitch. 

Under the covers, Clarke slipped her fingers beneath the hem of Lexa’s tank top and tapped lightly at her stomach. Lexa made no move to stop her, and so Clarke walked her fingers down to the waistband of Lexa’s boxers, tips tapping against soft skin and firm muscle until they reached the elastic stretched taut between jutting hipbones. Clarke lingered there another moment before sliding her hand lower, curling her fingers around the tent in Lexa’s shorts. She cupped her package, giving it only a very soft squeeze that still had Lexa hissing. 

Clarke could feel the increased tension in her friend’s body beside her and paused, hand retreating to Lexa’s belly. “Is this okay? You seem nervous.”

Lexa’s laugh was soft and thick and she cleared her throat as she nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I’m not nervous, I’m just trying not to come.”

Clarke gave a little scoff of surprise, caught off-guard by the answer but even more by the unusual frankness. “Seriously? We just woke up. I barely touched you.”

“I’ve been waiting all night,” Lexa reminded, defensive, “It’s not _that_ ridiculous.”

“Oh,” Clarke was instantly contrite, “Sorry. I didn’t realize. And either way I shouldn’t give you a hard time.” She tried, but couldn’t stop the snort of laughter. “No pun intended.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Please, feel free to laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing _at_ you, stop being dramatic.” Clarke nudged her friend with her elbow, and then gave her stomach another stroke, saying more seriously, “I didn’t know you hadn’t at all last night. I didn’t mean to be that selfish, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Clarke. I’m not actually mad.”

“Too busy holding back the flood?”

Lexa’s eyes narrowed threateningly. “If you keep making fun I’m going to make sure I unload it all over you and we’ll see how funny it is then.”

They both paused. Lexa recovered first: “That didn’t come out how I—”

Clarke interrupted: “I know you were joking but I saw that in porn and—”

“Wait, and what?”

This time it was Clarke’s turn to flush and get defensive: “And I don’t know, I’m just saying, I saw it in porn.” After a pause she shrugged again. “It looked…” She tried to find the right word or find then nerve to say the words she actually meant, but couldn’t quite get there. She settled on, lamely: “Sticky.”

Lexa, chewing on her lip, nodded. “Yeah, it gets sticky when it dries. It was a joke, I would never do that.”

“I know. Did I kill the mood? I’m supposed to be thanking you for last night.”

Maybe it should have killed the mood, but Lexa’s body didn’t seem to have noticed. (She didn’t want to admit it, but even the accidental joking thought of coming on Clarke had kept her dick at achingly full mast. If anything, she was even harder than she’d been before.) She shook her head at Clarke. “If you still want to. You really don’t have to.”

Clarke’s hand returned to her stomach. “I want to. I want—”

“What?”

“Can I try something different?”

Lexa didn’t hesitate. “Okay. Like what?”

Clarke drew back, propping up on her side a little higher, and drawing the covers back. “Give me your tank top.”

That drew a confused look from Lexa, but she sat up and peeled off her top, handing it over. She tugged the edge of the sheet up over her breasts, half on modest instinct and half because it was cool in the room. Beside her, Clarke sat up and pulled the tank on herself instead. It looked completely different on her, stretched to the limit across her breasts, nipples easily visible through the cloth, an almost obscene amount of cleavage in the neckline. Lexa bit her lip and closed her hands into fists in the sheets to avoid reaching for her dick.

Clarke moved back onto her side and patted the bed. “Lie back down.”

Lexa did as she was told, lying flat beside Clarke and letting the blonde push the sheet down and away. “What are you going to do?”

“Remember last weekend,” Clarke asked, reaching out to start drawing patterns around Lexa’s ribs with the tip of a finger, “We were wondering if it would be possible to get you off just from touching your breasts? I still want to find out.”

Lexa groaned. “Clarke, I’ve barely gotten off at all in days, I don’t know if I can take being teased.”

“It won’t just be teasing, I’m going to make you come.”

Lexa wasn’t convinced, but it was hard to resist Clarke saying things like that. Not only was it impossibly hot hearing those words come out of her mouth, but also Lexa knew first-hand that when Clarke Griffin put her mind to something, she pretty much always accomplished it. She took a deep breath and let it out heavily, trying to ignore the ache between her legs. 

She’d enjoyed Clarke toying with her nipples last time and shared her friend’s curiosity about how far that could go, but just now the heavy throb of her pulse in her shaft and the swollen weight of her over-full balls were demanding relief, and the idea of leaving them untouched much longer was difficult to handle. But she didn’t want to discourage Clarke, and she did want to try this, so she forced herself to focus on the excitement of experimenting with something new, and nodded. “Okay, but if it’s not working after a while—I mean I can’t go to school like this.”

“Then we’ll get you off some other way. I’m not trying to blue-ball you, I promise.”

“Okay,” Lexa nodded, and set her head back on the pillow, trying to get comfortable. Clarke chuckled quietly and reached out to trace the line of goosebumps that had pricked up around her navel.

“Relax, Lex. It’s just a little research.” Clarke trailed fingers up her sternum, and then drew circles around the curves of Lexa’s breasts, spiraling up each soft slope in turn until she reached the peak, finding the pink tips of her nipples already hard from arousal and anticipation. Clarke stroked her index finger across one, just brushing back and forth and feeling the nub tighten under even this glancing bit of attention. 

Lexa squirmed at the fluttering pressure, and Clarke touched her more firmly, rubbing her finger briskly back and forth, almost flicking the very tip of Lexa’s nipple. That sent a little shiver down Lexa’s spine and pushed her hips up off the bed, pushing against the sheet that still covered her lower half. 

Clarke bit her lip at the sight, at the tight plane of Lexa’s stomach and because it was easy to recognize the bulging shape of her erection even through the cloth, but she remained focused on her task. Despite the wealth of potential distractions it wasn’t difficult, not with Lexa’s bare chest laid out for her, all pale skin except for the occasional dark freckle and the dusky pink circles of her nipples. 

Clarke had always been the one getting noticed for her breasts (and she wasn’t exactly modest about having a great rack), but she found herself marveling at the perfection of Lexa’s, her gently rounded curves and the soft weight that fit perfectly in Clarke’s hand, only just big enough to overflow the cup of her palm. Still big enough to feel soft and round, to jiggle when Lexa moved, like now as she shifted impatiently.

Clarke wanted to kiss them, to lean down and press her lips to every inch of Lexa’s breasts and the delicate skin between, but she remembered how Lexa had reacted last time to touches that weren’t quite so gentle, and she was curious to see if that result could be duplicated. She let her angle shift slightly, so that now when she dragged her finger back and forth, the blunt edge of her nail flicked across Lexa’s nipple, too. Clarke was rewarded with a little gasp, and the flush in Lexa’s cheeks spreading down her throat. Clarke did it again, a couple more times in quick succession, and when she looked up Lexa’s eyes were shut and her lower lip was caught between her teeth.

“Does that feel good?”

Lexa nodded quickly. “Yeah. It makes me feel kind of shivery, in a good way. But then it kind of wears off?” 

“I’ll try to alternate more often,” Clarke offered, “Maybe that will help.” She did it even as she spoke, moving her hand to begin flicking at the opposite nipple. 

Lexa responded immediately, her hips squirming again. The touch made something flutter in her lower belly, and made her want to push her chest up into Clarke’s hands for more. She didn’t need to, as a minute later Clarke’s fingers suddenly closed around one nipple and tugged firmly. That made Lexa gasp, and she felt a pulse of heat aimed straight between her legs. 

“Good?” Clarke asked, fingers hovering just above Lexa’s body. 

She couldn’t help herself, she arched her back until her nipple brushed Clarke’s knuckles. “Yeah. Can you—?.”

Clarke grinned, and shifted on the bed. Lexa didn’t realize she was freeing up both hands until suddenly one nipple was being pinched and the other flicked at the same time and she found herself making a noise of surprise and pleasure, the sensation tugging a slip of pre-cum out to dampen the front of her shorts.

Clarke continued like that, both handstugging and twisting and gradually increasing the force she used until Lexa’s flush had spread all the way down her her chest and the tips of her breasts were red too from being toyed with. Lexa was chewing on her lip to hold in a moan when suddenly fingers were replaced by lips, a warm mouth engulfing the over-stimulated flesh, tongue softly curling around the peak. Lexa couldn’t help it, without even thinking one hand slid down beneath the covers to cup her hard-on, massaging the dripping, straining length through her boxers. She could feel her own heartbeat pounding in her cock and knew only a few strokes in time with that rhythm could give her the relief she needed. 

But Clarke’s fingers closed around her wrist and pushed her hand away at the same moment she detached her lips from Lexa’s breast with a pop of suction, and Lexa whimpered in protest at the dual loss of sensation.

“Hey, we said we were going to see if you could come just from playing with your tits,” Clarke reminded her, one brow arching as she jiggled Lexa’s hand in the air, “Touching yourself is cheating.”

“Sorry,” Lexa said, feeling vaguely guilty about violating even a surprise fake rule, “I didn’t even mean to, I was just getting close—”

“So the stuff I was doing did feel good?”

“It felt amazing. I didn’t know it could feel that good. Why did you stop?”

“I’m not being too rough?” Clarke’s arched brows evened out, real concern creeping into the furrow between them.

Lexa shook her head quickly. “No. Gentle was nice but then I got used to it and it didn’t feel like as much anymore. What’re you’re doing is good. Really good.”

“Okay, good. If I start again, are you going to stop cheating and keep your hands out of it?”

Lexa nodded. Clarke took the wrist she was still holding and placed it up beside Lexa’s head on the pillow. “Put them both up here and keep them there, that way I can see you’re not cheating and interfering with the experiment.”

Lexa almost rolled her eyes and argued, as she usually did when Clarke got bossy like this, but this time something about it was curling hot in her belly and instead she did as she was told, bringing her other arm up, folding them both above her head. This had the added bonus of opening up her chest and thrusting her breasts into the air, and when she looked up at Clarke expectantly she found the blonde watching her with a hungry gaze. 

“Do you think you could really come from this, or am I just being mean not letting you use your hands?”

Lexa didn’t need long to consider before she shook her head. “No, I think I really could. At least right now since I was already so close. Let’s try.”

Clarke’s smile was bright, and even if it hadn’t been true Lexa knew she’d made the right choice agreeing. But it was true, and she quickly found herself clasping both hands around the rungs of Clarke’s headboard, using them as leverage to lift her hips off the bed in a full-body squirm as knuckles squeezed and a hot tongue lashed across the very tips of her nipples, left alone just long enough to become sensitive all over again. She looked down once at Clarke’s fair head bent over her chest and shivered just at the sight, at the knowledge that it was Clarke’s mouth and hands dedicated to bringing her to this writhing, needy state.

She flopped her head back against the pillow hard as Clarke’s mouth drew back and she blew across the wet peak, the sudden chill sending shivers straight down Lexa’s core, hips rocking against the air as she exhaled a whined, “ _Clarke._ ”

Clarke chuckled, a husky, throaty sound that made Lexa groan again just to hear it. She could feel that familiar tightening in her belly and balls and a heavier pulse of wetness sliding out of her and she chased the feeling, tangling a hand briefly in Clarke’s hair.

“Are you close?” Clarke’s voice sounded just like her laugh, and Lexa bit down hard on her own lip and nodded before realizing Clarke probably couldn’t see.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “Almost. But it’s not quite—”

Clarke hummed acknowledgment against her skin, and Lexa had only just had time to appreciate the way that sensation buzzed along her nerves when suddenly Clarke’s lips were attached to the soft underside of her breast, sucking hard enough to make the skin prickle and sting in a way that somehow had Lexa’s pulse jumping. She could feel the scrape of Clarke’s teeth across delicate skin, and realized suddenly what Clarke was doing: she was creating a mark. A big dark hickey on Lexa’s breast that she would see every time she looked in the mirror for…however long hickeys lasted. Anya’d had one for at least a week, once. The sharp suckling of Clarke’s mouth and the graze of her teeth felt surprisingly good on their own, but that thought--of wearing Clarke’s mark hidden beneath her bra, feeling it on her body in the shower and at school and every time she dressed or undressed and being reminded of this—it was enough to have Lexa panting. 

Hearing her, Clarke reached down with her free hand to tug the covers and Lexa’s boxers down out of the way for her, and then started in on a new mark higher on her breast. She sucked just as hard as the first time and now paired it with a flick and a twist of her fingers around the other nipple, and she felt Lexa tighten beneath her, Lexa’s breath stuttering in her chest with a choked moan and then a warm splatter on Clarke’s elbow. She kept working, but let her touch grow gentler, until she was just softly lapping at the mark she’d made and the tender peak beside it by the time Lexa slumped boneless into the mattress.

Clarke finally lifted her head, looking down at the mess Lexa had made on her stomach, the heavy spray of cum across her abs, some drops of which had made it onto Clarke’s own arm. She left it, pressing a last kiss to the curve of Lexa’s breast before sitting up and sliding out of bed. She came back a moment later with tissues, wiping off Lexa’s stomach and softening cock as she took in the marks she’d left, already showing signs of stippling into bruises, and the bright red of her nipples. She reached out to brush a finger across one.

“Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

Lexa made a wordless hum in response, and shook her head. “It was really good. I mean, it—” she paused, blinking through the post-orgasm haze to try to sort through her thoughts. “I guess it sort of hurt. But in a good way? I don’t know if that really counts as hurt.”

“Like when you crack your back really hard?” Clarke asked, still lightly tracing her fingertip over the hickeys she’d made and the delicate little nubs she’d abused.

“Sort of?” Lexa agreed, but she was squinting, and then shrugged. “I don’t know how to describe it. It just felt good. I could try doing it to you sometime and you can see?”

Now there was an idea. Clarke didn’t need to consider before nodding. “Yeah. We should do that. That’s what research is about, right?” She smiled and gave one hickey a little flick. 

Lexa gasped, and her hand snapped down on instinct to catch Clarke’s wrist before she could do it again. “Ow!”

“What happened to it being a good hurt?” Clarke teased.

“You just surprised me.” Lexa flicked her shoulder in reply, and then looked down, peering at the mark she could see from this angle, the other hidden on the bottom of her breast.

“Is it okay that I left marks?” Clarke asked, suddenly feeling bad. “I should’ve asked—”

But Lexa was shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. I mean no one can see these but me, anyway. If you’d done it to my neck I would’ve stopped you.”

Clarke nodded. “Fair. It just seemed like the right move in the moment.”

“I liked it. I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

“Now I’m curious,” Clarke admitted, and she rolled up onto her side and reached for Lexa’s shoulder. “My turn next?”

Lexa began to shift toward her, but she caught sight of the clock behind Clarke and groaned. “We’re going to be late for school.”

“No we won’t. We can be quick. You don’t want to do what we did last night again?”

“Of course I want to, but Clarke, it’s already ten after and we really need to shower.”

Clarke sighed, frustrated but resigned to the fact that Lexa was right. She wasn’t shy about ignoring rules when necessary—neither of them were—but she also didn’t want to miss class. But then suddenly she grinned. “What if we do it _while_ we shower?”

Lexa blinked and didn’t answer immediately, but the way her eyes briefly unfocused and her breath stuttered said it all. Clarke gave her hip a smack and bounded out of bed. “C’mon, no time to waste.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'll take suggestions/prompts for possible additional chapters in the comments, if you have them! Or on tumblr @ [raanon](http://raanon.tumblr.com/).


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